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BARNABY    RUDGE 


BY 

CHARLES    DICKENS. 


LIBRARY 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 
Vol.    I. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NEW   YORK^r 

THOMAS   Y    CROWELL  Sc  CO., 

46  East  Fourteenth  St. 


<LO 


BERWICK    &    SMITH,    PRINTERS,    BOSTON. 


PREFACE. 


Q       As  it  is  Mr.  Waterton's  opinion  that  ravens  are  gradually 
O  becoming  extinct  in  England,  I  offer  a  few  words  here  about 
mine. 

The  raven  in  this  story  is  a  compound  of  two  great  origi- 
nals, of  whom  I  have  been,  at  different  times,  the  proud 
possessor.  The  first  was  in  the  bloom  of  his  youth,  when  he 
was  discovered  in  a  modest  retirement  in  London,  by  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  given  to  me.  He  had  from  the  first,  as  Sir 
Hug;h  Evans  says  of  Anne  Page,  "good  gifts,"  which  he 
improved  by  study  and  attention  in  a  most  exemplary  manner. 
He  slept  in  a  stable  —  generally  on  horseback  —  and  so  terri- 
fied a  Newfoundland  dog  by  his  preternatural  sagacity,  that 
he  has  been  known,  by  the  mere  superiority  of  his  genius,  to 
walk  off  unmolested  with  the  dog's  dinner,  from  before  his 
face.  He  was  rapidly  rising  in  acquirements  and  virtues, 
when,  in  an  evil  hour,  his  stable  was  newly  painted.  He 
observed  the  workmen  closely,  saw  that  they  were  careful  of 
the  paint,  and  immediately  burned  to  possess  it.  On  their 
going  to  dinner,  he  ate  up  all  they  had  left  behind,  consisting 
of  a  pound  or  two  of  Avhite  lead ;  and  this  youthful  indiscre-, 
tion  terminated  in  death. 

While  I  was  yet  inconsolable  for  his  loss,  another  friend  of 
mine  in  Yorkshire  discovered  an  older  and  more  gifted  raven 
at  a  village  public-house,  wliich  he  prevailed  upon  the  land- 
lord to  part  with  for  a  consideration,  and  sent  up  to  me.  The 
first  act  of  this  Sage,  was,  to  administer  to  the  effects  of  his 
predecessor,  by  disinterring  all  tlio  cheese  and  halfpence  lie 


iv  PEE  FACE. 

had  buried  in  the  garden  —  a  work  of  immense  labor  and 
research,  to  which  he  devoted  all  the  energies  of  his  mind. 
When  he  had  achieved  this  task,  he  applied  himself  to  the 
acquisition  of  stable  language,  in  which  he  soon  became  such 
an  adept,  that  he  would  perch  outside  my  window  and  drive 
imaginary  horses  with  great  skill,  all  day.  Perhaps  even  I 
never  saw  him  at  his  best,  for  his  former  master  sent  his  duty 
with  him,  '•  and  if  I  wished  the  bird  to  come  out  very  strong, 
would  I  be  so  good  as  show  him  a  drunken  man''  —  which  I 
never  did,  having  (unfortunately)  none  but  sober  people  at 
hand.  But  I  could  hardly  have  respected  him  more,  whatever 
the  stimulating  influences  of  this  sight  might  have  been.  He 
had  not  the  least  respect,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  for  me  in  return, 
or  for  anybody  but  the  cook ;  to  whom  he  was  attached  —  but 
only,  I  fear,  as  a  Policeman  might  have  been.  Once,  I  met 
him  unexpectedl}',  about  half  a  mile  off,  walking  down  the 
middle  of  the  public  street,  attended  by  a  pretty  large  crowd, 
and  spontaneously  exhibiting  the  whole  of  his  accomplish- 
ments. His  gravity  under  those  trying  circumstances,  I 
never  can  forget,  nor  the  extraordinary  gallantr}'  with  which, 
refusing  to  be  brought  home,  he  defended  himself  behind  a 
pump,  until  overpowered  by  numbers.  It  may  have  been  that 
he  was  too  bright  a  genius  to  live  long,  or  it  may  have  been 
that  he  took  some  pernicious  substance  into  his  bill,  and 
thence  into  his  maw  —  which  is  not  improbable,  seeing  that 
he  new-pointed  the  greater  part  of  the  garden-wall  by  digging 
^out  the  mortar,  broke  countless  squares  of  glass  by  scraping 
away  the  putty  all  round  the  frames,  and  tore  up  and  swal- 
lowed, in  splinters,  the  greater  part  of  a  wooden  staircase  of 
six  steps  and  a  landing  —  but  after  some  three  years  he  too 
was  taken  ill,  and  died  before  the  kitchen  fire.  He  kept  his 
eye  to  the  last  upon  the  meat  as  it  roasted,  and  suddenly 
turned  over  on  his  back  with  a  sepulchral  cry  of  "  Cuckoo  ! " 
After  this  mournful  deprivation,  I  was,  for  a  long  time, 


PREFACE.  V 

ravenless.  The  kindness  of  another  friend  at  length  provided 
me  with  another  raven;  but  he  is  not  a  genius.  He  leads 
the  life  of  a  hermit,  in  my  little  orchard,  on  the  summit  of 
Shakespeare's  Gad's  Hill ;  he  has  no  relish  for  society ;  he 
gives  no  evidence  of  ever  cultivating  his  mind ;  and  he  has 
picked  up  nothing  but  meat  since  I  have  known  him  —  except 
the  faculty  of  barking  like  a  dog. 

Of  the  story  of  Barxaby  Rudge  itself,  I  do  not  think  I 
can  say  anything  here  more  to  the  purpose  than  the  following 
passages  from  the  original  Preface. 

"  No  account  of  the  Gordon  Eiots  having  been  to  my  knowl- 
edge introduced  into  any  Work  of  Fiction,  and  the  subject 
presenting  very  extraordinary  and  remarkable  features,  I  was 
led  to  project  this  Tale. 

"It  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  those  shameful  tumults, 
while-  they  reflect  indelible  disgrace  upon  the  time  in  which 
they  occurred,  and  all  who  had  act  or  part  in  them,  teach  a 
good  lesson.  That  what  we  falsely  call  a  religious  cry  is 
easily  raised  by  men  who  have  no  religion,  and  who  in  their 
daily  practice  set  at  naught  the  commonest  principles  of  right 
and  wrong ;  that  it  is  begotten  of  intolerance  and  persecution ; 
that  it  is  senseless,  besotted,  inveterate,  and  unmerciful;  all 
History  teaches  us.  But  perhaps  we  do  not  know  it  in  our 
hearts  too  well,  to  profit  by  even  so  humble  an  example  as  the 
'  No  Popery '  riots  of  Seventeen  Hundred  and  Eighty. 

"  However  imperfectly  those  disturbances  are  set  forth  in 
the  following  pages,  they  are  impartially  painted  by  one  who 
has  no  sympathy  with  the  Romish  Church,  although  he 
acknowledges,  as  most  men  do,  some  esteemed  friends  among 
the  followers  of  its  creed. 

"It  may  be  observed  that,  in  the  description  of  the  prin- 
cipal outrages,  reference  has  been  had  to  the  best  authorities 
of  that  time,  such  as  they  are ;  and  that  the  account  given  in 


vi  PEE  FACE. 

this  Tale,  of  all  the  main  features  of  the  Eiots,  is  substantially 
correct. 

"  It  may  be  further  remarked,  that  Mr.  Dennis's  allusions 
to  the  flourishing  condition  of  his  trade  in  those  days,  have 
their  foundation  in  Truth,  and  not  in  the  Author's  fancy. 
Any  file  of  old  Newspapers,  or  odd  volume  of  the  Annual 
Kegister,  will  prove  this,  with  terrible  ease. 

"  Even  the  case  of  Mary  Jones,  dwelt  upon  with  so  much 
pleasure  by  the  same  character,  is  no  effort  of  invention.  The 
facts  were  stated,  exactly  as  they  are  stated  here,  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  Whether  they  afforded  as  much  entertainment 
to  the  merry  gentlemen  assembled  there,  as  some  other  most 
affecting  circumstances  of  a  similar  nature  mentioned  by  Sir 
Samuel  Romilly,  is  not  recorded." 

That  the  case  of  Mary  Jones  may  speak  the  more  emphati- 
cally for  itself,  I  now  subjoin  it,  as  related  by  Sir  William 
Meredith,  in  a  speech  in  Parliament,  on  "  Frequent  Execu- 
tions," made  in  1777. 

"Under  this  act,"  the  Shop-lifting  Act,  "one  Mary  Jones 
was  executed,  whose  case  I  shall  just  mention ;  it  was  at  the 
time  when  press-warrants  were  issued,  on  the  alarm  about 
Falkland  Islands.  The  woman's  husband  was  pressed,  their 
goods  seized  for  some  debts  of  his,  and  she,  with  two  small 
children,  turned  into  the  streets  a-begging.  It  is  a  circum- 
stance not  to  be  forgotten,  that  she  was  very  young  (under 
nineteen),  and  most  remarkably  handsome.  She  went  to  a 
linen-draper's  shop,  took  some  coarse  linen  off  the  counter, 
and  slipped  it  under  her  cloak ;  the  shopman  saw  her,  and  she 
laid  it  down :  for  this  she  was  hanged.  Her  defence  was  (I 
have  the  trial  in  my  pocket),  'that  she  had  lived  in  credit, 
and  wanted  for  nothing,  till  a  press-gang  came  and  stole  her 
husband  from  her ;  but,  since  then,  she  had  no  bed  to  lie  on ; 
nothing  to  give  her  children  to  eat;  and  they  were  almost 


PREFACE.  vii 

naked ;  and  perhaps  she  might  have  done  something  wrong, 
for  she  hardly  knew  what  she  did.'  The  parish  officers  testi- 
fied the  truth  of  this  story ;  but  it  seems,  there  had  been  a 
good  deal  of  shop-lifting  about  Ludgate ;  an  example  was 
thought  necessary ;  and  this  woman  was  hanged  for  the 
comfort  and  satisfaction  of  shopkeepers  in  Ludgate  Street. 
When  brought  to  receive  sentence,  she  behaved  in  such  a 
frantic  manner,  as  proved  her  mind  to  be  in  a  distracted  and 
desponding  state ;  and  the  child  was  sucking  at  her  breast 
when  she  set  out  for  Tyburn." 


LIST    OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

VOL.    I. 

By  G.  Cattermole  axd  H.  K.  Browne. 


Str 


The  Maypole 

Barnaby  a:sd  Grip 

John  Willet  and  his  Guests 
The  Stranger  striking  Joe  Willet     . 
Barnaby,  Gabriel  Varden,  and  the  Wounded 
Simon  Tappertit  and  Dolly  Varden    . 
Slmon  Tappertit  dangerous  .... 

Barnaby's  Dream 

Edward  Chester,  Varden,  and  Barnaby 
Initiation  of  a  'prentice  Knight 

MiGGS  on  the  Watch 

Hugh 

On  the  Maypole  Hearth     .... 

The  State  Bed 

The  Warren 

Mr.  Haredale  rebukes  Young  Chester    . 
Sir  John  Chester  at  Homk    .... 

Street  in  Old  London 

Barnaby  AND  HIS  Mother      .... 

The  Obsequious  Stagg 

Dolly  and  Miss  Haredale    .... 
Dolly  waylaid  by  Hugh        .... 
Hugh  at  Sir  John  Chester's 
Sir  John  preparing  to  pay  a  Visit 
The  Widow's  Farewell  to  Mr.  Haredale 
John  Willet  Asleep  in  the  Bar  . 
Sir  John  Chester  flatters  Mrs.  Varden 
Miss  Haredale  crossing  the  BitiDGio  . 
Old  Willet  insults  Joe  before  Sir  John  Chester 

ix 


Fronti 


PAGE 

ipiece 

X 

18 

32 

42 

44 

54 

55 

72 

81 

86 

88 

109 

115 

126 

129 

139 

149 

159 

175 

180 

201 

205 

219 

222 

230 

253 

262 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Joe  says  Good-by  to  Dolly 

Edwakd  Chestlk's  last  Interview  with  his  Father 

SoLOMOx  Daisy's  Fright 

John  Willet  and  Hugh  at  the  Warren 

Lord  George  Gordon  .... 

Gashford,  Hugh,  and  Dennis 

The  Boot  Tavern 

A  Xo-POPERY  Dance         .... 

Simon  Tappertit  at  a  Glorious  Elevation 

Mr.  Tappertit  addressing  his  Friends 

Dolly  adjusting  her  Father's  Scarf 

On  the  Watch  . 

The  Greeting    . 

Gashford  struck  down 

At  the  Cottage  Door 

Stagg  and  the  Widow 

Grip  in  the  Provinces 

Lord  George  Gordon  an 

Outside  the  Gallery 

The  FvIOters  returning  from  sacking  a  Popish  Chapel 
Gashford  watching    for    Signs  of  the    Burning  of  the 

Warren 

Liberties  are  taken  with  John  Willet' s  Bar 

John  Willet  and  the  Mysterious  Stranger    .... 

In  the  Fire  and  Smoke 

Barnaby  captured  by  the  Soldiers 

Barnaby  and  Grip  in  Prison 


D  Gashford  enlisting  Barnaby 


PAGE 

273 
280 
288 
298 
305 
330 
334 
335 
339 
341 
362 
369 
373 
380 
389 
396 
406 
417 
427 
456 

466 
471 
476 
491 
500 
510 


iv<:^v^ 


BARNABY    RUDGE. 


CHAPTER   I. 


In  the  year  1775,  there  stood  upon  the  borders  of  Epping 
Forest,  at  a  distance  of  about  twelve  miles  from  London 
—  measuring  from  the  Standard  in  Cornhill  or  rather  from 
the  spot  on  or  near  to  which  the  Standard  used  to  be  in  daj'S 
of  yore  —  a  house  of  public  entertainment  called  the  Maypole  ; 
which  fact  was  demonstrated  to  all  such  travellers  as  could 
neither  read  nor  write  (and  sixty-six  years  ago  a  vast  number 
both  of  travellers  and  stay-at-homes  were  in  this  condition) 
by  the  emblem  reared  on  the  roadside  over  against  the  house, 
which,  if  not  of  those  goodly  proportions  that  Maypoles  were 
wont  to  present  in  olden  times,  was  a  fair  young  ash,  thirty 
feet  in  height,  and  straight  as  any  arrow  that  ever  English 
yeoman  drew. 

The  Maypole  —  by  which  term  from  henceforth  is  meant  the 
house,  and  not  its  sign  —  the  Maypole  was  an  old  building, 
with  more  gable  ends  than  a  lazy  man  would  care  to  count  on 
a  sunny  day ;  huge  zig-zag  chimneys,  out  of  which  it  seemed 
as  though  even  smoke  could  not  choose  but  come  in  more 
than  naturally  fantastic  shapes,  imparted  to  it  in  its  tortuous 
progress ;  and  vast  stables,  gloomy,  ruinous  and  empty.  The 
place  was  said  to  have  been  built  in  the  days  of  King  Henry 
the  Eighth ;  and  there  was  a  legend,  not  only  that  Queen 
Elizabeth  had  slept  there  one  night  while  upon  a  hunting 
excursion,  to  wit  in  a  certain  oak-panelled  room  with  a  deep 
bay-window,  but  that  next  morning,  while  standing  on  a 
mounting-block  before  the  door  with  one  foot  in  the  stirrup, 
the  virgin  monarch  had  then  and  there  boxed  and  cuffed  an 

VOL.    I. 


2  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

unlucky  page  for  some  neglect  of  duty.  The  matter-of-fact 
and  doubtful  folks,  of  whom  there  were  a  few  among  the 
Maypole  customers,  as  unluckily  there  always  are  in  every 
little  community,  were  inclined  to  look  upon  this  tradition  as 
rather  apocryphal ;  but,  whenever  the  landlord  of  that  ancient 
hostelry  appealed  to  the  mounting-block  itself  as  evidence, 
and  triumphantly  pointed  out  that  there  it  stood  in  the  same 
place  to  that  very  day,  the  doubters  never  failed  to  be  put 
down  by  a  large  majority,  and  all  true  believers  exulted  as  in 
a  victory. 

AYhether  these  and  many  other  stories  of  the  like  nature, 
were  true  or  untrue,  the  Maypole  was  really  an  old  house,  a 
very  old  house,  perhaps  as  old  as  it  claimed  to  be,  and  per- 
haps older,  which  will  sometimes  happen  with  houses  of  an 
uncertain,  as  with  ladies  of  a  certain,  age.  Its  windows  were 
old  diamond-pane  lattices,  its  floors  were  sunken  and  uneven, 
its  ceilings  blackened  by  the  hand  of  time  and  heavy  with 
massive  beams.  Over  the  doorway  was  an  ancient  porch, 
quaintly  and  grotesquely  carved ;  and  here  on  summer  even- 
ings the  more  favored  customers  smoked  and  drank  —  ay, 
and  sang  many  a  good  song  too,  sometimes  —  reposing  on  two 
grim-looking  high-backed  settles,  which,  like  the  twin  dragons 
of  some  fairy  tale,  guarded  the  entrance  to  the  mansion. 

In  the  chimneys  of  the  disused  rooms,  swallows  had  built 
their  nests  for  many  a  long  year,  and  from  earliest  spring  to 
latest  autumn  whole  colonies  of  sparrows  chirped  and  twittered 
in  the  eaves.  There  were  more  pigeons  about  the  dreary 
stable  yard  and  out-buildings  than  anybody  but  the  landlord 
could  reckon  up.  The  wheeling  and  circling  flights  of  runts, 
fantails,  tumblers,  and  pouters,  were  perhaps  not  quite  con- 
sistent with  the  grave  and  sober  character  of  the  building, 
but  the  monotonous  cooing,  which  never  ceased  to  be  raised 
by  some  among  them  all  day  long,  suited  it  exactly,  and 
seemed  to  lull  it  to  rest.  With  its  overhanging  stories, 
drowsy  little  panes  of  glass,  and  front  bulging  out  and  pro- 
jecting over  the  pathway,  the  old  house  looked  as  if  it  were 
nodding  in  its  sleep.  Indeed,  it  needed  no  very  great  stretch 
of  fancy  to  detect  in  it  other  resemblances  to  humanity.  The 
bricks  of  which  it  was  built  had  originally  been  a  deep  dark 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  3 

red,  but  had  grown  yellow  and  discolored  like  an  old  man's 
skin ;  the  sturdy  timbers  had  decayed  like  teeth ;  and  here 
and  there  the  ivy,  like  a  warm  garment  to  comfort  it  in  its 
age,  wrapt  its  green  leaves  closely  round  the  time-worn. walls. 

It  was  a  hale  and  hearty  age  though,  still :  and  in  the 
summer  or  autumn  evenings,  when  the  glow  of  the  setting 
sun  fell  upon  the  oak  and  chestnut  trees  of  the  adjacent  for- 
est, the  old  house,  partaking  of  its  lustre,  seemed  their  fit 
companion,  and  to  have  many  good  j^ears  of  life  in  him  yet. 

The  evening  with  which  we  have  to  do,  was  neither  a 
summer  nor  an  autumn  one,  but  the  twilight  of  a  day  in 
March,  when  the  wind  howled  dismally  among  the  bare 
branches  of  the  trees,  and  rumbling  in  the  wide  chimneys  and 
driving  the  rain  against  the  windows  of  the  Maypole  Inn, 
gave  such  of  its  frequenters  as  chanced  to  be  there  at  the 
moment  an  undeniable  reason  for  prolonging  their  stay,  and 
caused  the  landlord  to  prophesy  that  the  night  would  certainly 
clear  at  eleven  o'clock  precisely,  —  which  by  a  remarkable 
coincidence  was  the  hour  at  which  he  always  closed  his  house. 

The  name  of  him  upon  whom  the  spirit  of  prophecy  thus 
descended  was  John  Willet,  a  burly,  large-headed  man  with  a 
fat  face  which  betokened  profound  obstinacy  and  slowness  of 
apprehension,  combined  with  a  very  strong  reliance  upon  his 
own  merits.  It  was  John  Willet's  ordinary  boast  in  his  more 
placid  moods  that  if  he  were  slow  he  was  sure ;  which 
assertion  could,  in  one  sense  at  least,  be  by  no  means  gain- 
said, seeing  that  he  was  in  everything  unquestionably  the 
reverse  of  fast,  and  withal  one  of  the  most  dogged  and  positive 
fellows  in  existence  —  always  sure  that  what  he  thought  or 
said  or  did  was  right,  and  holding  it  as  a  thing  quite  settled 
and  ordained  by  the  laws  of  nature  and  Providence,  that  any- 
body who  said  or  did  or  thought  otherwise  must  be  inevitably 
and  of  necessity  wrong. 

Mr.  Willet  walked  slowly  up  to  the  window,  flattened  his 
fat  nose  against  the  cold  glass,  and  shading  his  eyes  that  lii.s 
sight  might  not  ])e  affected  by  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  Are, 
looked  abroad.  Then  he  walked  slowly  back  to  liis  old  seat 
in  the  chimney-corner,  ami,  roin})osing  himself  in  it  with  a 
slight  shiver,  such  as  a  man  luiglit  give  way  to  and  so  acquire 


4  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

an  additional  relish  for  the  warm  blaze,  said,  looking  round 
upon  his  guests,  — 

"It'll  clear  at  eleven  o'clock.  Ko  sooner  and  no  later. 
Not  before  and  not  arterwards." 

"How  do  you  make  out  that?"  said  a  little  man  in  the 
opposite  corner.  "  The  moon  is  past  the  full,  and  she  rises  at 
nine." 

John  looked  sedately  and  solemnly  at  his  questioner  until 
he  had  brought  his  mind  to  bear  upon  the  whole  of  his 
observation,  and  then  made  answer,  in  a  tone  which  seemed 
to  imply  that  the  moon  was  peculiarly  his  business  and 
nobody  else's, — 

"Never  you  mind  about  the  moon.  Don't  you  trouble 
yourself  about  her.  You  let  the  moon  alone,  and  I'll  let  you 
alone." 

"'  No  offence  I  hope  ?  "  said  the  little  man. 

Again  John  w^aited  leisurely  until  the  observation  had 
thoroughly  penetrated  to  his  brain,  and  then  replying  "  No 
offence  as  yet,'^  applied  a  light  to  his  pipe  and  smoked  in 
placid  silence  ;  now  and  then  casting  a  sidelong  look  at  a  man 
wrapped  in  a  loose  riding-coat  with  huge  cuffs  ornamented 
with  tarnished  silver  lace  and  large  metal  buttons,  who  sat 
apart  from  the  regular  frequenters  of  the  house,  and  wearing 
a  hat  flapped  over  his  face,  which  was  still  further  shaded  by 
the  hand  on  which  his  forehead  rested,  looked  unsociable 
enough. 

There  was  another  guest,  who  sat,  booted  and  spurred,  at 
some  distance  from  the  fire  also,  and  whose  thoughts  —  to  judge 
from  his  folded  arms  and  knitted  brows,  and  from  the  untasted 
liquor  before  him  —  were  occupied  with  other  matters  than  the 
topics  under  discussion  or  the  persons  who  discussed  them. 
This  was  a  young  man  of  about  eight  and  twenty,  rather 
above  the  middle  height,  and  though  of  a  somewhat  slight 
figure,  gracefully  and  strongly  made.  He  wore  his  own  dark 
hair,  and  was  accoutred  in  a  riding-dress,  which,  together 
with  his  large  boots  (resembling  in  shape  and  fashion  those 
worn  by  our  Life  Guardsmen  at  the  present  day),  showed 
indisputable  traces  of  the  bad  condition  of  the  roads.  But 
travel-stained  though  he  was,  he  was  well  and  even  richly 


'I 

m 


BAnNABY  BUDGE.  5 

attired,  and  without  being  over-dressed  looked  a  gallant 
gentleman. 

Lying  upon  the  table  beside  him,  as  he  had  carelessly 
thrown  them  down,  were  a  heavy  riding- whip  and  a  slouched 
hat,  the  latter  worn  no  doubt  as  being  best  suited  to  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather.  There,  too,  were  a  pair  of  pistols 
in  a  holster-case,  and  a  short  riding-cloak.  Little  of  his  face 
was  visible,  except  the  long  dark  lashes  which  concealed  his 
downcast  eyes,  but  an  air  of  careless  ease  and  natural  grace- 
fulness of  demeanor  pervaded  the  figure,  and  seemed  to 
comprehend  even  these  slight  accessories,  which  were  all 
handsome  and  in  good  keeping. 

Towards  this  young  gentleman  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Willet 
wandered  but  once,  and  then  as  if  in  mute  inquiry  whether  he 
had  observed  his  silent  neighbor.  It  was  plain  that  John 
and  the  young  gentleman  had  often  met  before.  Finding  that 
his  look  was  not  returned,  or  indeed  observed  by  the  person 
to  whom  it  was  addressed,  John  gradually  concentrated  the 
whole  power  of  his  eyes  into  one  focus,  and  brought  it  to 
bear  upon  the  man  in  the  flapped  hat,  at  whom  he  came  to 
stare  in  course  of  time  with  an  intensity -so  remarkable,  that 
it  affected  his  fireside  cronies,  who  all,  as  with  one  accord,  took 
their  pipes  from  their  lips,  and  stared  with  open  mouths  at 
the  stranger  likewise. 

The  sturdy  landlord  had  a  large  pair  of  dull  fish-like  eyes, 
and  the  little  man  who  had  hazarded  the  remark  about  the 
moon  (and  who  was  the  parish-clerk  and  bell-ringer  of 
Chigwell;  a  village  hard  by),  had  little  round  black  shiny 
eyes  like  beads  ;  moreover  this  little  man  wore  at  the  knees  of 
his  rusty  black  breeches,  and  on  his  rusty. black  coat,  and  all 
down  his  long  flapped  waistcoat,  little  queer  buttons  like 
nothing  except  his  eyes;  but  so  like  them,  that  as  they 
twinkled  and  glistened  in  the  light  of  the  fire,  which  shone 
too  in  his  bright  shoe-buckles,  he  seemed  all  eyes  from  head 
to  foot,  and  to  be  gazing  with  every  one  of  them  o.t  the 
unknown  customer.  No  wonder  that  a  man  should  grow 
restless  under  such  an  inspection  as  this,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
eyes  belonging  to  short  Tom  Cobb  the  general  chandler  and 
post-office  keeper,  and  long  Phil  Parkes  the  ranger,  both   of 


6  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

whom,  infected  by  the  example  of  their  companions,  regarded 
him  of  the  flapped  hat  no  less  attentively. 

The  stranger  became  restless ;  perhaps  from  being  exposed 
to  this  raking  fire  of  eyes,  perhaps  from  the  nature  of  his 
previous  meditations  —  most  probably  from  the  latter  cause, 
for  as  he  changed  his  position  and  looked  hastily  round,  he 
started  to  find  himself  the  object  of  such  keen  regard,  and 
darted  an  angry  and  suspicious  glance  at  the  fireside  group. 
It  had  the  effect  of  immediately  diverting  all  eyes  to  the 
chimney,  except  those  of  John  Willet,  who  finding  himself,  as 
it  were,  caught  in  the  fact,  and  not  being  (as  has  been  already 
observed)  of  a  very  ready  nature,  remained  staring  at  his 
guest  in  a  particularly  awkward  and  disconcerted  manner. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

AVell.  There  was  not  much  in  well.  It  was  not  a  long 
speech.  "  I  thought  you  gave  an  order,"  said  the  landlord, 
after  a  pause  of  two  or  three  minutes  for  consideration. 

The  stranger  took  off  his  hat,  and  disclosed  the  hard  features 
of  a  man  of  sixty  or  thereabouts,  much  weather-beaten  and 
worn  by  time,  and  the  naturally  harsh  expression  of  which 
was  not  improved  by  a  dark  handkerchief  which  was  bound 
tightly  round  his  head,  and,  while  it  served  the  purpose  of  a 
wig,  shaded  his  forehead,  and  almost  hid  his  e^^ebrows.  If  it 
were  intended  to  conceal  or  divert  attention  from  a  deep  gash, 
now  healed  into  an  ugly  seam,  which  when  it  was  first 
inflicted  must  have  laid  bare  his  cheek-bone,  the  object  was 
but  indifferently  attained,  for  it  could  scarcely  fail  to  be  noted 
at  a  glance.  His  complexion  was  of  a  cadaverous  hue,  and  he 
had  a  grizzly  jagged  beard  of  some  three  weeks'  date.  Such 
was  the  figure  (very  meanly  and  poorly  clad)  that  now  rose 
from  the  seat,  and  stalking  across  the  room  sat  down  in  a 
corner  of  the  chimney,  which  the  politeness  or  fears  of  the 
little  clerk  very  readily  assigned  to  him. 

'-  A  highwayman ! "  whispered  Tom  Cobb  to  Parkes  the 
ranger. 

"Do  you  suppose  highwaymen  don't  dress  handsomer  than 
that  ? "  replied  Parkes.  "  It's  a  better  business  than  you 
think  for,  Tom,  and  highwaymen  don't  need  or  use  to  be 
shabby,  take  my  word  for  it," 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  7 

Meahwhilej  the  subject  of  their  speculations  had  done  due 
honor  to  the  house  by  calling  for  some  drink,  which  was 
promptly  supplied  by  the  landlord's  son  Joe,  a  broad-shouldered 
strapping  young  fellow  of  twenty,  whom  it  pleased  his  father 
still  to  consider  a  little  boy,  and  to  treat  accordingly. 
Stretching  out  his  hands  to  warm  them  by  the  blazing  fire, 
the  man  turned  his  head  towards  the  company,  and  after 
running  his  eye  sharply  over  them,  said  in  a  voice  well  suited 
to  his  appearance,  — 

"What  house  is  that  which  stands  a  mile  or  so  from 
here  ?  " 

"Public-house?"  said  the  landlord,  with  his  usual  delib- 
eration. 

"Public-house,  father!"  exclaimed  Joe,  "where's  the 
public-house  within  a  mile  or  so  of  the  Maypole  ?  He  means 
the  great  house  —  the  Warren  —  naturally  and  of  course.  The 
old  red-brick  house,  sir,  that  stands  in  its  own  grounds  —  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  the  stranger. 

"  And  that  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago  stood  in  a  park  five 
times  as  broad,  which  with  other  and  richer  property  has  bit 
by  bit  changed  hands  and  dwindled  away  —  more's  the  pity  ! " 
pursued  the  young  man. 

"Maybe,"  was  the  reply.  "But  my  question  related  to 
the  owner.  What  it  has  been  I  don't  care  to  know,  and  what 
it  is  I  can  see  for  myself." 

The  heir-apparent  to  the  Maypole  pressed  his  finger  on  his 
lips,  and  glancing  at  the  young  gentleman  already  noticed, 
who  had  changed  his  attitude  when  the  house  was  first  men- 
tioned, replied  in  a  lower  tone,  — 

"The  owner's  name  is  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey  Haredale, 
and  —  "  again  he  glanced  in  the  same  direction  as  before  — 
"  and  a  worthy  gentleman  too  —  hem  !  " 

Paying  as  little  regard  to  this  admonitory  cough,  as  to  the 
significant  gesture  that  had  preceded  it,  the  stranger  pursued 
his  questioning. 

"  I  turned  out  of  my  way  coming  here,  and  took  the  foot- 
path that  crosses  the  grounds.  Who  was  the  young  lady  that 
I  saw  entering  a  carriage  ?     His  daughter  ?  " 

"Why,  how  should  I  know,  honest   man?"    replied    Joe, 


8  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

contriving  in  the  course  of  some  arrangements  about  the 
hearth,  to  advance  close  to  his  questioner  and  pluck  him  by 
the  sleeve,  "/didn't  see  the  young  lady,  you  know.  Whew  ! 
There's  the  wind  again  —  and  rain  —  well  it  is  a  night !  " 

"  Rough  weather  indeed  !  "  observed  the  strange  man. 

"  You're  used  to  it  ?  "  said  Joe,  catching  at  anything  which 
seemed  to  promise  a  diversion  of  the  subject. 

"Pretty  well,"  returned  the  other.  "About  the  young 
lady  —  has  Mr.  Haredale  a  daughter  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  young  fellow  fretfully,  "  he's  a  single 
gentleman  —  he's  —  be  quiet,  can't  you,  man  ?  Don't  you 
see  this  talk  is  not  relished  yonder  ?  " 

Regardless  of  this  whispered  remonstrance,  and  affecting 
not  to  hear  it,  his  tormentor  provokingly- continued, — 

"  Single  men  have  had  daughters  before  now.  Perhaps  she 
may  be  his  daughter,  though  he  is  not  married." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Joe,  adding  in  an  undertone 
as  he  approached  him  again,  "  You'll  come  in  for  it  presently, 
1  know  you  will !  " 

"I  mean  no  harm"  —  returned  the  traveller  boldly,  "and 
have  said  none  that  I  know  of.  I  ask  a  few  questions  —  as 
any  stranger  may,  and  not  unnaturally  —  about  the  inmates 
of  a  remarkable  house  in  a  neighborhood  which  is  new  to  me, 
and  you  are  as  aghast  and  disturbed  as  if  I  were  talking 
treason  against  King  George.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  why, 
sir,  for  (as  I  say)  I  am  a  stranger,  and  this  is  Greek  to  me  ?  " 

The  latter  observation  was  addressed  to  the  obvious  cause 
of  Joe  Willet's  discomposure,  who  had  risen  and  was  adjusting 
his  riding-cloak  preparatory  to  sallying  abroad.  Briefly  reply- 
ing that  he  could  give  him  no  information,  the  young  man 
beckoned  to  Joe,  and  handing  him  a  piece  of  money  in  pay- 
ment of  his  reckoning,  hurried  out  attended  by  young  Willet 
himself,  who  taking  up  a  candle,  followed  to  light  him  to  the 
house  door. 

While  Joe  was  absent  on  this  errand,  the  elder  Willet  and 
his  three  companions  continued  to  smoke  with  profound 
gravity,  and  in  a  deep  silence,  each  having  his  eyes  fixed  on 
a  huge  copper  boiler  that  was  suspended  over  the  fire.  After 
some  time  John  Willet  slowly  shook  his  head,  and  thereupon 


BAttNABY  BUDGE.         -  9 

his  friends  slowly  shook  theirs;  but  no  man  withdrew  his 
eyes  from  the  boiler,  or  altered  the  solemn  expression  of  his 
countenance  in  the  slightest  degree. 

At  length  Joe  returned  —  very  talkative  and  conciliatory, 
as  though  with  a  strong  presentiment  that  he  was  going  to  be 
found  fault  with. 

"  Such  a  thing  as  love  is  !  "  he  said,  drawing  a  chair  near 
the  fire,  and  looking  round  for  sympathy.  "  He  has  set  off  to 
walk  to  London, —  all  the  way  to  London.  His  nag  gone 
lame  in  riding  out  here  this  blessed  afternoon,  and  comfort- 
ably littered  down  in  our  stable  at  this  minute ;  and  he  giving 
up  a  good  hot  supper  and  our  best  bed,  because  INIiss  Hare- 
dale  has  gone  to  a  masquerade  up  in  town,  and  he  has  set  his 
heart  upon  seeing  her !  I  don't  think  I  could  persuade 
myself  to  do  that,  beautiful  as  she  is,  —  but  then  I'm  not 
in  love  (at  least  I  don't  think  I  am),  and  that's  the  whole 
difference." 

/'  He  is  in  love  then  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  Kather,"  replied  Joe.  "  He'll  never  be  more  in  love,  and 
may  very  easily  be  less." 

"  Silence,  sir  !  "  cried  his  father. 

"  What  a  chap  you  are,  Joe  ! "  said  Long  Parkes. 

"  Such  an  inconsiderate  lad  !  "  murmured  Tom  Cobb. 

"Putting  himself  forward  and  wringing  the  very  nose  off 
his  own  father's  face  ! "  exclaimed  the  parish  clerk,  meta- 
phorically. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  reasoned  poor  Joe. 

"  Silence,  sir  ! "  returned  his  father,  "  what  do  you  mean  by 
talking,  when  you  see  people  that  are  more  than  two  or  three 
times  your  age,  sitting  still  and  silent  and  not  dreaming  of 
saying  a  word  ?  " 

"  Why  that's  the  proper  time  for  me  to  talk,  isn't  it  ? " 
said  Joe  rebelliously. 

"  The  proper  time,  sir  ! "  retorted  his  father,  '•  the  proper 
time's  no  time." 

"Ah  to  be  sure  !"  muttered  Parkes,  nodding  gravely  to  the 
other  two  who  nodded  likewise,  observing  under  their  breaths 
that  that  was  the  point. 

"The  proper  time's  no  time,  sir,"  repeated  flolm   Willet ; 


10  -        BAIiNABY  BUBGE. 

"  when  I  was  jowv  age  I  never  talked,  I  never  wanted  to  talk. 
I  listened  and  improved  myself,  that's  what  /  did." 

••'And  you'd  find  your  father  rather  a  tough  customer  in 
argeyment,  Joe,  if  anybody  was  to  try  and  tackle  him/'  said 
Parkes. 

"For  the  matter  o'  that,  Phil !"  observed  Mr.  Willet,  blow- 
ing a  long,  thin,  spiral  cloud  of  smoke  out  of  the  corner  of 
his  mouth,  and  staring  at  it  abstractedly  as  it  floated  away ; 
"  For  the  matter  o'  that,  Phil,  argeyraent  is  a  gift  of  Natur. 
If  Xatur  has  gifted  a  man  with  powers  of  argeyment,  a  man 
has  a  right  to  make  the  best  of  'em,  and  has  not  a  right  to 
stand  on  false  delicacy,  and  deny  that  he  is  so  gifted  ;  for  that 
is  a-turning  of  his  back  on  Xatur,  a-flouting  of  her,  a-slighting 
of  her  precious  caskets,  and  a-proving  of  one's  self  to  be  a 
swine  that  isn't  worth  her  scattering  pearls  before." 

The  landlord  pausing  here  for  a  very  long  time,  Mr.  Parkes 
naturally  concluded  that  he  had  brought  his  discourse  to  an 
end ;  and  therefore,  turning  to  the  young  man  with  some 
austerity,  exclaimed,  — 

"You  hear  what  your  father  says,  Joe?  You  wouldn't 
much  like  to  tackle  him  in  argeyment,  I'm  thinking,  sir." 

"  —  If,"  said  John  AYillet,  turning  his  eyes  from  the  ceiling 
to  the  face  of  his  interrupter,  and  uttering  the  monosyllable 
in  capitals,  to  apprise  him  that  he  had  put  in  his  oar,  as  the 
vulgar  say,  with  unbecoming  and  irreverent  haste ;  "  If,  sir, 
Xatur  has  fixed  upon  me  the  gift  of  argeyment,  why  should  I 
not  own  to  it,  and  rather  glory  in  the  same  ?  Yes,  sir,  I  am 
a  tough  customer  that  way.  You  are  right,  sir.  My  tough- 
ness has  been  proved,  sir,  in  this  room  many  and  many  a  time, 
as  I  think  you  know  :  and  if  you  don't  know,"  added  John, 
putting  his  pipe  in  his  mouth  again,  "  so  much  the  better,  for 
I  ain't  proud  and  am  not  going  to  tell  you." 

A  general  murmur  from  his  three  cronies,  and  a  general 
shaking  of  heads  at  the  copper  boiler,  assured  John  Willet 
that  they  had  had  good  experiences  of  his  powers  and  needed 
no  further  evidence  to  assure  them  of  his  superiority.  John 
smoked  with  a  little  more  dignity  and  surveyed  them  in 
silence. 

"It's  all  very  fine  talking,"  muttered  Joe,  who  had  been 


BABNABY  BULGE.  11 

fidgeting  in  his  chair  with  divers  uneasy  gestures.  "  But  if 
you  mean  to  tell  me  that  I'm  never  to  open  my  lips  "  — 

"Silence,  sir!"  roared  his  father.  "Xo,  you  never  are. 
When  your  opinion's  wanted,  you  give  it.  When  you're 
spoke  to,  you  speak.  When  your  opinion's  not  wanted,  and 
you're  not  spoke  to,  don't  you  give  an  opinion,  and  don't  you 
speak.  The  world's  undergone  a  nice  alteration  since  my 
time,  certainly.  j\Iy  belief  is  that  there  ain't  any  boys  left 
—  that  there  isn't  such  a  thing  as  a  boy  —  that  there's  nothing 
now  between  a  male  baby  and  a  man  —  and  that  all  the  boys 
went  out  with  his  blessed  ^lajesty  King  George  the  Second." 

"  That's  a  very  true  observation,  always  excepting  the  young 
princes,"  said  the  parish-clerk,  who,  as  the  representative  of 
church  and  state  in  that  company,  held  himself  bound  to  the 
nicest  loyalty.  "If  it's  godly  and  righteous  for  boys,  being  of 
the  ages  of  boys,  to  behave  themselves  like  boys,  then  the 
young  princes  must  be  boys  and  cannot  be  otherwise." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  mermaids,  sir?  "  said  Mr.  Willet. 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"Very  good,"  said  jMr.  Willet.  "According  to  the  consti- 
tution of  mermaids,  so  much  of  a  mermaid  as  is  not  a  woman 
must  be  a  fish.  According  to  the  constitution  of  young  princes, 
so  much  of  a  young  prince  (if  anything)  as  is  not  actually  an 
angel,  must  be  godly  and  righteous.  Therefore  if  it's  becoming 
and  godly  and  righteous  in  the  young  princes  (as  it  is  at  their 
ages)  that  they  should  be  boys,  they  are  and  must  be  boys, 
and  cannot  by  possibility  be  anything  else." 

This  elucidation  of  a  knotty  point  being  received  with  such 
marks  of  approval  as  to  put  John  Willet  into  a  good-humor, 
he  contented  himself  with  repeating  to  his  son  his  command  of 
silence,  and  addressing  the  stranger,  said,  — 

"If  you  had  asked  your  question  of  a  grown-up  i)erson  — 
of  me  or  any  of  these  gentlemen  —  you'd  have  had  some  satis- 
faction, and  wouldn't  have  wasted  breath.  Miss  Haredale  is 
Mr.  Geoffrey  Haredale's  niece." 

"Is  her  father  alive  ?"  said  the  man  carelessly. 

"No,"  rejoined  the  landlord,  "he  is  not  alive,  and  he  is  not 
dead  "  — 

"  Not  dead  ! ''  cried  the  other. 


12  BABNABT  RUDGE. 

"Not  dead  in  a  common  sort  of  way,"  said  the  landlord. 

The  cronies  nodded  to  each  other,  and  Mr.  Parkes  remarked 
in  an  undertone,  shaking  his  head  meanwhile  as  who  should 
say,  "  let  no  man  contradict  me,  for  I  won't  believe  him,"  that 
John  Willet  was  in  amazing  force  to-night,  and  fit  to  tackle  a 
Chief  Justice. 

The  stranger  suffered  a  short  pause  to  elapse,  and  then 
asked  abruptly,  '•'  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"More  than  you  think  for,  friend,"  returned  John  "Willet. 
"Perhaps  there's  more  meaning  in  them  Avords  than  you 
suspect." 

"Perhaps  there  is,"  said  the  strange  man,  gruffly;  "but 
what  the  devil  do  you  speak  in  such  mysteries  for  ?  You  tell 
me,  first,  that  a  man  is  not  alive,  nor  yet  dead  —  then,  that 
he's  not  dead  in  a  common  sort  of  way  —  then  that  you  mean 
a  great  deal  more  than  I  think  for.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  you 
may  do  that  easily  ;  for  so  far  as  I  can  make  out,  you  mean 
nothing.     What  do  you  mean,  I  ask  again  ?  " 

"  That,"  returned  the  landlord,  a  little  brought  dovvm  from 
his  dignity  by  the  stranger's  surliness,  "  is  a  Maypole  story, 
and  has  been  any  time  these  four  and  twenty  years.  That 
story  is  Solomon  Daisy's  story.  It  belongs  to  the  house ;  and 
nobody  but  Solomon  Daisy  has  ever  told  it  under  this  roof,  or 
ever  shall  —  that's  more." 

The  man  glanced  at  the  parish  clerk,  whose  air  of  conscious- 
ness and  importance  plainly  betokened  him  to  be  the  person 
referred  to,  and,  observing  that  he  had  taken  his  pipe  from 
his  lips,  after  a  very  long  whiif  to  keep  it  alight,  and  was  evi- 
dently about  to  tell  his  story  without  further  solicitation,  gath- 
ered his  large  coat  about  him,  and  shrinking  farther  back  was 
almost  lost  in  the  gloom  of  the  spacious  chimney-corner,  except 
when  the  flame,  struggling  from  under  a  great  fagot,  whose 
weight  almost  crushed  it  for  the  time,  shot  upward  with  a 
strong  and  sudden  glare,  and  illumining  his  figure  for  a  mo- 
ment, seemed  afterwards  to  cast  it  into  deeper  obscurity  than 
before. 

By  this  flickering  light,  which  made  the  old  room,  with  its 
heavy  timbers  and  panelled  walls,  look  as  if  it  were  built  of 
polished  ebony  —  the  wind  roaring  and  howling  without,  now 


BAUNABY  RUDGH.  13 

rattling  the  latch  and  creaking  the  hinges  of  the  stout  oaken 
door,  and  now  driving  at  the  casement  as  though  it  would  beat 
it  in  —  by  this  light,  and  under  circumstances  so  auspicious, 
Solomon  Daisy  began  his  tale  :  — 

"  It  was  Mr.  Eeuben  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey's  elder 
brother  "  — 

Here  he  came  to  a  dead  stop,  and  made  so  long  a  pause  that 
even  John  Willet  grew  impatient  and  asked  why  he  did  not 
proceed. 

"  Cobb,"  said  Solomon  Daisy,  dropping  his  voice  and  appeal- 
ing to  the  post-office  keeper;  "  what  day  of  the  month  is  this  ?" 

"  The  nineteenth." 

"Of  March,"  said  the  clerk,  bending  forward,  "the  nine- 
teenth of  March  ;  that's  very  strange." 

In  a  low  voice  they  all  acquiesced,  and  Solomon  went  on  :  — 

"It  was  Mr.  Reuben  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey's  elder  brother, 
that  twenty-two  years  ago  was  the  OAvner  of  the  Warren,  which, 
as  Joe  has  said  —  not  that  you  remember  it,  Joe,  for  a  boy  like 
you  can't  do  that,  but  because  you  have  often  heard  me  say  so 
—  was  then  a  much  larger  and  better  place,  and  a  much  more 
valuable  property  than  it  is  now.  His  lady  was  lately  dead, 
and  he  was  left  with  one  child  —  the  Miss  Haredale  you  have 
been  inquiring  about  —  who  was  then  scarcely  a  year  old." 

Although  the  speaker  addressed  himself  to  the  man  who  had 
shown  so  much  curiosity  about  this  same  family,  and  made  a 
pause  here  as  if  expecting  some  exclamation  of  surprise  or 
encouragement,  the  latter  made  no  remark,  nor  gave  any 
indication  that  he  heard  or  was  interested  in  what  was  said. 
Solomon  therefore  turned  to  his  old  companions,  whose  noses 
were  brightly  illuminated  by  the  deep  red  glow  from  the 
bowls  of  their  pipes  ;  assured,  by  long  experience,  of  their 
attention,  and  resolved  to  show  his  sense  of  such  indecent 
behavior. 

"Mr.  Haredale,"  said  Solomon,  turning  his  back  upon  the 
strange  man,  "left  this  place  when  his  lady  died,  feeling  it 
lonely  like,  and  went  up  to  London,  where  he  stopped  some 
months  ;  but  finding  that  place  as  lonely  as  this  —  as  I  suppose 
and  have  always  heard  say  —  he  suddenly  came  back  again 
with  his  little  girl  to  the  Warren,  bringing  with  him  besides, 


14  bahnabt  budge. 

that  clay,  only  two  women  servants,  and  his  steward,  and  a 
gardener." 

Mr.  Daisy  stopped  to  take  a  whiff  at  his  pipe,  which  was 
going  out,  and  then  proceeded  —  at  first  in  a  snuffling  tone, 
occasioned  by  keen  enjoyment  of  the  tobacco  and  strong  pull- 
ing at  the  pipe,  and  afterwards  with  increasing  distinctness, — 

"  —  Bringing  with  him  two  women  servants,  and  his  steward 
and  a  gardener.  The  rest  stopped  behind  up  in  London,  and 
were  to  folloAv  next  day.  It  happened  that  that  niglit,  an  old 
gentleman  w^ho  lived  at  Chigwell-row,  and  had  long  been 
poorly,  deceased,  and  an  order  came  to  me  at  half  after  twelve 
o'clock  at  niglit  to  go  and' toll  the  passing-bell." 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  little  group  of  listeners, 
sufficiently  indicative  of  the  strong  repugnance  any  one  of 
them  would  have  felt,  to  have  turned  out  at  such  a  time  upon 
such  an  errand.  The  clerk  felt  and  understood  it,  and  pursued 
his  theme  accordingly  :  — 

"  It  ivas  a  dreary  thing,  especially  as  the  grave-digger  was 
laid  up  in  his  bed,  from  long  working  in  a  damp  soil  and 
sitting  down  to  take  his  dinner  on  cold  tombstones,  and  I  was 
consequently  under  obligations  to  go  alone,  for  it  was  too  late 
to  hope  to  get  any  other  companion.  However,  I  wasn't 
unprepared  for  it ;  as  the  old  gentleman  had  often  made  it  .a 
request  that  -the  bell  should  be  tolled  as  soon  as  possible  after 
the  breath  was  out  of  his  body,  and  he  had  been  expected  to 
go  for  some  days.  I  put  as  good  a  face  upon  it  as  I  could, 
and  muffling  myself  up  (for  it  was  mortal  cold),  started  out 
with  a  lighted  lantern  in  one  hand  and  the  key  of  the  church 
in  the  other." 

At  this  point  of  the  narrative,  the  dress  of  the  strange  man 
rustled  as  if  he  had  turned  himself  to  hear  more  distinctly. 
Slightly  pointing  over  his  shoulder,  Solomon  elevated  his  eye- 
brows and  nodded  a  silent  inquiry  to  Joe  whether  this  was 
the  case.  Joe  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  peered  into 
the  corner,  but  could  make  out  nothing,  and  so  shook  his  head. 

"It  was  just  such  a  night  as  this;  blowing  a  hurricane, 
raining  heavily,  and  very  dark  —  I  often  think  now,  darker 
than  I  ever  saw  it  before  or  since ;  that  may  be  my  fancy,  but 
the  houses  were  all  close   shut  and  the  folks  in  doors,  and 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  15 

perhaps  there  is  only  one  othef  man  who  knows  how  dark  it 
really  was.  I  got  into  the  church,  chained  the  door  back  so 
that  it  should  keep  ajar  —  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  like 
to  be  shut  in  there  alone  —  and  putting  my  lantern  on  the 
stone  oeat  in  the  little  corner  where  the  bell-rope  is,  sat  down 
beside  it  to  trim  the  candle. 

"  I  sat  down  to  trim  the  candle,  and  when  I  had  done  so,  I 
could  not  persuade  myself  to  get  up  again  and  go  about  my 
work.  I  don't  know  how  it  was,  but  I  thought  of  all  the 
ghost  stories  I  had  ever  heard,  even  those  that  I  had  heard 
when  I  was  a  boy  at  school,  and  had  forgotten  long  ago ;  and 
they  didn't  come  into  my  mind  one  after  another,  but  all 
crowding  at  once,  like.  I  recollected  one  stor}-  there  was  in 
the  village,  how  that  on  a  certain  night  in  the  year  (it  might 
be  that  very  night  for  anything  I  knew),  all  the  dead  people 
came  out  of  the  ground  and  sat  at  the  heads  of  their  own 
graves  till  morning.  This  made  me  think  how  many  people 
I  had  known,  were  buried  between  the  church  door  and  the 
churchyard  gate,  and  what  a  dreadful  thing  it  would  be  to 
have  to  pass  among  them  and  know  them  again,  so  earthy  and 
unlike  themselves.  I  had  known  all  the  niches  and  arches  in 
the  church  from  a  child ;  still,  I  couldn't  persuade  myself  that 
those  were  their  natural  shadows  which  I  saw  on  the  pavement, 
but  felt  sure  there  were  some  ugly  figures  hiding  among  'em 
and  peeping  out.  Thinking  on  in  this  way,  I  began  to  think 
of  the  old  gentleman  who  was  just  dead,  and  I  could  have 
sworn,  as  I  looked  up  the  dark  chancel,  that  I  saw  him  in  his 
usual  place,  wrapping  his  shroud  about  him  and  shivering  as 
if  he  felt  it  cold.  All  this  time  I  sat  listening  and  listening, 
and  hardly  dared  to  breathe.  At  length  I  started  up  and 
took  the  bell-rope  in  my  hands.  At  that  minute  there 
rang  —  not  that  bell,  for  I  had  hardly  touched  the  rope  —  but 
another ! 

"  I  heard  the  ringing  of  another  bell,  and  a  deep  bell  too, 
plainly.  It  was  only  for  an  instant,  and  even  then  the  wind 
carried  the  sound  away,  but  I  heard  it.  I  listened  for  a  long 
time,  but  it  rang  no  more.  I  had  heard  of  corpse  candles,  and 
at  last  I  persuaded  myself  that  this  must  be  a  corpse  bell  toll- 
ing of  itself  at  midnight  for  the  dead.     I  tolled  my  bell  — 


16  SARNAiST  RUDGE. 

how,  or  how  long,  I  don't  know — and  ran  home  to  bed  as  fast 
as  I  could  touch  the  ground. 

''  I  was  up  early  next  morning,  after  a  restless  night,  and 
told  the  story  to  my  neighbors.  Some  were  serious  and  some 
made  light  of  it :  I  don't  think  anybody  believed  it  real.  But, 
that  morning,  Mr.  Reuben  Haredale  was  found  murdered  in 
his  bed-chamber;  and  in  his  hand  was  a  piece  of  the  cord 
attached  to  an  alarm-bell  outside  the  roof,  which  hung  in  his 
room  and  had  been  cut  asunder,  no  doubt  by  the  murderer, 
when  he  seized  it. 

"  That  was  the  bell  I  heard. 

"A  bureau  was  found  opened,  and  a  cash-box,  which  Mr. 
Haredale  had  brought  down  that  day,  and  was  supposed  to 
contain  a  large  sum  of  money,  was  gone.  The  steward  and 
gardener  were  both  missing  and  both  suspected  for  a  long 
time,  but  they  were  never  found,  though  hunted  far  and  wide. 
And  far  enough  they  might  have  looked  for  poor  Mr.  Rudge 
the  steward,  whose  body  —  scarcely  to  be  recognized  by  his 
clothes  and  the  watch  and  ring  he  wore  —  was  found,  months 
afterwards,  at  the  bottom  of  a  piece  of  water  in  the  grounds, 
with  a  deep  gash  in  the  breast  where  he  had  been  stabbed  with 
a  knife.  He  was  only  partly  dressed ;  and  people  all  agreed 
that  he  had  been  sitting  up  reading  in  his  own  room,  where 
there  were  many  traces  of  blood,  and  was  suddenly  fallen  upon 
and  killed  before  his  master. 

"Everybody  now  knew  that  the  gardener  must  be  the 
murderer,  and  though  he  has  never  been  heard  of  from  that 
time  to  this,  he  will  be,  mark  my  words.  The  crime  was  com- 
mitted this  day  two  and  twent}^  years  —  on  the  nineteenth  of 
March,  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty-three.  On  the 
nineteenth  of  March  in  some  year  —  no  matter  when  —  I  know 
it,  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  we  have  alwa3"S,  in  some  strange  way 
or  other,  been  brought  back  to  the  subject  on  that  day  ever 
since  —  on  the  nineteenth  of  March  in  some  year,  sooner  or 
later,  that  man  will  be  discovered." 


BAIiNABY  liUDGE.  17 


CHAPTER    II. 

"  A  STRANGE  story  ! "  said  the  man  who  had  been  the  cause 
of  the  narration.  —  '•  Stranger  still  if  it  comes  about  as  you 
predict.     Is  that  all  ?  " 

A  question  so  unexpected,  nettled  Solomon  Daisy  not  a 
little.  By  dint  of  relating  the  story  very  often,  and  orna- 
menting it  (according  to  village  report)  with  a  few  flourishes 
suggested  by  the  various  hearers  from  time  to  time,  he  had 
come  by  degrees  to  tell  it  with  great  effect;  and  "is  that  all?" 
after  the  climax,  was  not  what  he  was  accustomed  to. 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  he  repeated,  "  yes,  that's  all,  sir.  And 
enough  too,  I  think." 

"  I  think  so  too.  My  horse,  young  man.  He  is  but  a  hack 
hired  from  a  roadside  posting-house,  but  he  must  carry  me  to 
London  to-night." 

'•  To-night !  "  said  Joe. 

"  To-night,"  returned  the  other.  "  What  do  you  stare  at  ? 
This  tavern  would  seem  to  be  a  house  of  call  for  all  the  gaping 
idlers  of  the  neighborhood  !  " 

At  this  remark,  whicJi  evidently  had  reference  to  the  scrutiny 
he  had  undergone,  as  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  the 
eyes  of  John  Willet  and  his  friends  were  diverted  with  mar- 
vellous rapidity  to  the  copper  boiler  again.  Xot  so  with  Joe, 
who,  being  a  mettlesome  fellow,  returned  the  stranger's  angry 
glance  with  a  steady  look,  and  rejoined,  — 

"It  is  not  a  very  bold  thing  to  wonder  at  your  going  on 
to-night.  Surely  you  have  been  asked  such  a  harmless 
question  in  an  inn  before,  and  in  better  weatlier  than  this.  I 
thought  you  mightn't  know  the  way,  as  you  seem  strange  to 
this  part." 

"The  way"  —  repeated  the  other,  irritably. 

"  Yes.     Do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"I'll  —  humph  !  —  I'll  find  it,"  replied  the  man,  waving  his 

VOL.  I. 


18  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

hand  and  turning  on  his  heel.  "  Landlord,  take  the  reckoning 
here." 

John  Willet  did  as  he  was  desired ;  for  on  that  point  he 
was  seldom  slow,  except  in  the  particulars  of  giving  change, 
and  testing  the  goodness  of  any  piece  of  coin  that  was  prof- 
fered to  him,  by  the  application  of  his  teeth  or  his  tongue, 
or  some  other  test,  or,  in  doubtful  cases,  by  a  long  series  of 
tests  terminating  in  its  rejection.  The  guest  then  wrapped 
his  garments  about  him  so  as  to  shelter  himself  as  effectually 
as  he  could  from  the  rough  weather,  and  without  any  word  or 
sign  of  farewell  betook  himself  to  the  stable-j- ard.  Here  Joe 
(who  had  left  the  room  on  the  conclusion  of  their  short 
dialogue)  was  protecting  himself  and  the  horse  from  the  rain 
under  the  shelter  of  an  old  pent-house  roof. 

"  He's  pretty  much  of  my  opinion,''  said  Joe,  patting  the 
horse  upon  the  neck.  "I'll  wager  that  your  stopping  here 
to-night  would  please  him  better  than  it  would  please  me." 

"  He  and  I  are  of  different  opinions,  as  we  have  been  more 
than  once  on  our  way  here,"  was  the  short  reply. 

'•  So  I  was  thinking  before  you  came  out,  for  he  has  felt 
your  spurs,  poor  beast." 

The  stranger  adjusted  his  coat-collar  about  his  face,  and 
made  no  answer. 

"  You'll  know  me  again,  I  see,"  he  said,  marking  the  young 
fellow's  earnest  gaze,  when  he  had  sprung  into  the  saddle. 

"  The  man's  worth  knowing,  master,  who  travels  a  road  he 
don't  know,  mounted  on  a  jaded  horse,  and  leaves  good  quar- 
ters to  do  it  on  such  a  night  as  this." 

"  You  have  sharp  eyes  and  a  sharp  tongue  I  find." 

"  Both  I  hope  by  nature,  but  the  last  grows  rusty  sometimes 
for  want  of  using." 

"  Use  the  first  less  too,  and  keep  their  sharpness  for  your 
sweethearts,  boy,"  said  the  man. 

So  saying  he  shook  his  hand  from  the  bridle,  struck  him 
roughly  on  the  head  with  the  but  end  of  his  whip,  and  gal- 
loped away ;  dashing  through  the  mud  and  darkness  with  a 
headlong  speed,  which  few  badly  mounted  horsemen  would 
have  cared  to  venture,  even  had  they  been  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  country ;    and  which,  to  one  who  knew 


J^^\ 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  19 

nothing  of  the  way  he  rode,  was  attended  at  every  step  with 
great  hazard  and  danger. 

The  roads,  even  within  twelve  miles  of  London,  were  at 
that  time  ill-paved,  seldom  repaired,  and  very  badly  made. 
The  way  this  rider  traversed  had  been  ploughed  up  by  the 
wheels  of  heavy  wagons,  and  rendered  rotten  by  the  frosts 
and  thaws  of  the  preceding  winter,  or  possibly  of  many 
winters.  Great  holes  and  gaps  had  been  worn  into  the  soil, 
which,  being  now  filled  with  water  from  the  late  rains,  were 
not  easily  distinguishable  even  by  day ;  and  a  plunge  into  any 
one  of  them  might  have  brought  down  a  surer-footed  horse 
than  the  poor  beast  now  urged  forward  to  the  utmost  extent 
of  his  powers.  Sharp  flints  and  stones  rolled  from  under  his 
hoofs  continually  ;  the  rider  could  scarcely  see  beyond  the 
animal's  head,  or  farther  on  either  side  than  his  own  arm 
would  have  extended.  At  that  time,  too,  all  the  roads  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  metropolis  were  infested  by  footpads  or 
highwaymen,  and  it  was  a  night,  of  all  others,  in  which  any 
evil-disposed  person  of  this  class  might  have  pursued  his 
unlawful  calling  with  little  fear  of  detection. 

Still,  the  traveller  dashed  forward  at  the  same  reckless 
pace,  regardless  alike  of  the  dirt  and  wet  which  flew  about 
his  head,  the  profound  darkness  of  the  night,  and  the  proba- 
bility of  encountering  some  desperate  characters  abroad.  At 
every  turn  and  angle,  even  where  a  deviation  from  the  direct 
course  might  have  been  least  expected,  and  could  not  possibly 
be  seen  until  he  was  close  upon  it,  he  guided  the  bridle  with 
an  unerring  hand,  and  kept  the  middle  of  the  road.  Thus  he 
sped  onward,  raising  himself  in  the  stirrups,  leaning  his  body 
forward,  until  it  almost  touched  the  liorse's  neck,  and  flour- 
ishing his  heavy  whip  above  his  head  with  the  fervor  of  a 
madman. 

There  are  times  when,  the  elements  being  in  unusual  com- 
motion, those  who  are  bent  on  daring  enterprises,  or  agitated 
by  great  thoughts,  whether  of  good  or  evil,  feel  a  mysterious 
sympathy  with  the  tumult  of  nature,  and  are  roused  into 
corresponding  violence.  In  the  midst  of  thunder,  lightning, 
and  storm,  many  tremendous  deeds  have  been  committed  ; 
men,  self-possessed  before,  have  given  a  sudden  loose  to  pas- 


20  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

sions  they  could  no  longer  control.  The  demons  of  wrath 
and  despair  have  striven  to  emulate  those  who  ride  the 
whirlwind  and  direct  the  storm;  and  man,  lashed  into  mad- 
ness with  the  roaring  winds  and  boiling  waters,  has  become 
for  the  time  as  wild  and  merciless  as  the  elements  themselves. 

Whether  the  traveller  was  possessed  by  thoughts  which 
the  fury  of  the  night  had  heated  and  stimulated  into  a  quicker 
current,  or  was  merely  impelled  by  some  strong  motive  to 
reach  his  journey's  end,  on  he  swept  more  like  a  hunted 
phantom  than  a  man,  nor  checked  his  pace  until,  arriving  at 
some  cross-roads,  one  of  which  led  by  a  longer  route  to  the 
place  whence  he  had  lately  started,  he  bore  down  so  suddenly 
upon  a  vehicle  which  was  coming  towards  him,  that  in  the 
effort  to  avoid  it  he  well-nigh  pulled  his  horse  upon  his 
haunches,  and  narrowly  escaped  being  thrown. 

"  Yoho  !  "  cried  the  voice  of  a  man.  "  What's  that  ?  who 
goes  there  ?  " 

"  A  friend  !  "  replied  the  traveller. 

"A  friend!''  repeated  the  voice.  "Who  calls  himself  a 
friend  and  rides  like  that,  abusing  Heaven's  gifts  in  the 
shape  of  horseflesh,  and  endangering,  not  only  his  own  neck 
"(which  might  be  no  great  matter),  but  the  necks  of  other 
people  ?  " 

"  You  have  a  lantern  there,  I  see,"  said  the  traveller,  dis- 
mounting, "lend  it  me  for  a  moment.  You  have  wounded 
my  horse,  I  think,  with  your  shaft  or  wheel." 

'•Wounded  him!"  cried  the  other,  "if  I  haven't  killed 
him,  it's  no  fault  of  yours.  What  do  you  mean  by  galloping 
along  the  king's  highway  like  that,  eh  ?  " 

"  Give  me  the  light,"  returned  the  traveller,  snatching  it 
from  his  hand,  "  and  don^t  ask  idle  questions  of  a  man  who  is 
in  no  mood  for  talking." 

"If  you  had  said  you  were  in  no  mood  for  talking  before, 
I  should  perhaps  have  been  in  no  mood  for  lighting,"  said  the 
voice.  "  Hows'ever  as  it's  the  poor  horse  that's  damaged  and 
not  you,  one  of  you  is  welcome  to  the  light  at  all  events  — 
but  it's  not  the  crusty  one." 

The  traveller  returned  no  answer  to  this  speech,  but  hold- 
ing the  light  near  to  his  panting  and  reeking  beast,  examined 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  21 

him  in  limb  and  carcass.  Meanwhile  the  other  man  sat  very 
composedly  in  his  vehicle,  -which  was  a  kind  of  chaise  with  a 
depository  for  a  large  bag  of  tools,  and  watched  his  proceed- 
ings with  a  careful  eye. 

The  looker-on  was  a  round  red-faced,  sturdy  yeoman,  with 
a  double  chin,  and  a  voice  husky  with  good  living,  good  sleep- 
ing, good  humor,  and  good  health.  He  was  past  the  prime 
of  life,  but  Father  Time  is  not  always  a  hard  parent,  and, 
though  he  tarries  for  none  of  his  children,  often  lays  his  hand 
lightly  upon  those  who  have  used  him  well ;  making  them 
old  men  and  women  inexorably  enough,  but  leaving  their 
hearts  and  spirits  young  and  in  full  vigor.  With  such  people 
the  gray  head  is  but  the  impression  of  the  old  fellow's  hand 
in  giving  them  his  blessing,  and  every  wrinkle  but  a  notch  in 
the  quiet  calendar  of  a  well-spent  life. 

The  person  whom  the  traveller  had  so  abruptly  encountered 
was  of  this  kind  :  bluff,  hale,  hearty,  and  in  a  green  old  age  ; 
at  peace  with  himself,  and  evidently  disposed  to  be  so  with 
all  the  world.  Although  muffled  up  in  divers  coats  and  hand- 
kerchiefs—  one  of  which,  passed  over  his  crown,  and  tied  in  a 
convenient  crease  of  his  double  chin,  secured  his  three-cornered 
hat  and  bob-wig  from  blowing  off  his  head — there  was  no 
disguising  his  plump  and  comfortable  figure  ;  neither  did  cer- 
tain dirty  finger-marks  upon  his  face  give  it  any  other  than 
an  odd  and  comical  expression,  through  which  its  natural 
good  humor  shone  with  undiminished  lustre. 

''He  is  not  hurt,"  said  the  traveller  at  length,  raising  his 
head  and  the  lantern  together. 

"You  have  found  that  out  at  last,  have  you  ?  "  rejoined  the 
old  man.  ''My  eyes  have  seen  more  light  than  yours,  but  I 
wouldn't  change  with  you." 

"  Wliat  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Mean  !  I  could  have  told  you  he  wasn't  hurt,  five  minutes 
ago.  Give  me  the  light,  friend ;  ride  forward  at  a  gentler 
pace ;  and  good-night." 

In  handing  up  the  Lantern,  the  man  necessarily  cast  its 
rays  full  on  the  speaker's  face.  Their  eyes  met  at  tlie 
instant.  He  suddenly  dropped  it  and  crushed  it  with  his 
foot. 


22  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

"  Did  you  never  see  a  locksmith  before,  that  you  start  as  if 
you  had  come  upon  a  ghost  ? "  cried  the  old  man  in  the 
chaise,  "  or  is  this,"  he  added  hastily,  thrusting  his  hand  into 
the  tool  basket  and  drawing  out  a  hammer,  "  a  scheme  for 
robbing  me  ?  I  know  tliese  roads,  friend.  When  I  travel 
them,  I  carry  nothing  but  a  few  shillings,  and  not  a  crown's 
worth  of  them.  I  tell  you  plainly,  to  save  us  both  trouble, 
that  there's  nothing  to  be  got  from  me  but  a  pretty  stout  arm 
considering  my  years,  and  this  tool,  which,  mayhap,  from 
long  acquaintance  with,  I  can  use  pretty  briskly.  You  shall 
not  have  it  all  your  own  way,  I  promise  you,  if  you  play 
at  that  game."  With  these  words  he  stood  upon  the  defen- 
sive. 

"  I  am  not  what  you  take  me  for,  Gabriel  Varden,"  replied 
the  other. 

"  Then  what  and  who  are  you  ?  "  returned  the  locksmith. 
"You  know  my  name  it  seems.     Let  me  know  yours." 

"  I  have  not  gained  the  information  from  any  confidence  of 
yours,  but  from  the  inscription  on  your  cart,  which  tells  it  to 
all  the  town,"  replied  the  traveller. 

"You  have  better  eyes  for  that  than  you  had  for  your  horse 
then,"  said  Varden,  descending  nimbly  from  his  chaise  ;  "Who 
are  you  ?     Let  me  see  your  face." 

While  the  locksmith  alighted,  the  traveller  had  regained 
his  saddle,  from  which  he  now  confronted  the  old  man,  who, 
moving  as  the  horse  moved  in  chafing  under  the  tightened 
rein,  kept  close  beside  him. 

"Let  me  see  your  face,  I  say." 

"  Stand  off !  "^ 

"'No  masquerading  tricks,"  said  the  locksmith,  "and  tales 
at  the  club  to-morrow,  how  Gabriel  Varden  was  frightened  by 
a  surly  voice  and  a  dark  night.  Stand  —  let  me  see  your 
face." 

Finding  that  further  resistance  would  only  involve  him  in 
a  personal  struggle  with  an  antagonist  by  no  means  to  be 
despised,  the  traveller  threw  back  his  coat,  and  stooping  down 
looked  steadily  at  the  locksmith. 

Perhaps  two  men  more  powerfully  contrasted,  never  opposed 
each  other  face  to  face.     The  ruddy  features  of  the  locksmith 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  23 

SO  set  off  and  heightened  the  excessive  paleness  of  the  man 
on  horseback,  that  he  looked  like  a  bloodless  ghost,  while  the 
moisture,  which  hard  riding  had  brought  out  upon  his  skin, 
hifQg  there  in  dark  and  heavy  drops,  like  dews  of  agony  and 
death.  The  countenance  of  the  old  locksmith  was  lighted  up 
with  the  smile  of  one  expecting  to  detect  in  this  unpromising 
stranger  some  latent  roguery  of  eye  or  lip,  which  should  reveal 
a  familiar  person  in  that  arch  disguise,  and  spoil  his  jest. 
The  face  of  the  other,  sullen  and  tierce,  but  shrinking  too, 
was  that  of  a  man  who  stood  at  bay  ;  while  his  firmly  closed 
jaws,  his  puckered  mouth,  and  more  than  all  a  certain  stealthy 
motion  of  the  hand  within  his  breast,  seemed  to  announce  a 
desperate  purpose  very  foreign  to  acting,  or  child's  play. 

Thus  they  regarded  each  other  for  some  time,  in  silence. 

"  Humph  !  "  he  said  when  he  had  scanned  his  features  ;  '•  I 
don't  know  you." 

"Don't  desire  to?"  —  returned  the  other,  muffling  himself 
as  before. 

"I  don't,"  said  Gabriel;  "to  be  plain  with  you,  friend,  you 
don't  carry  in  your  countenance  a  letter  of  recommendation." 

"  It's  not  my  wish,"  said  the  traveller.  "  My  humor  is  to 
be  avoided." 

"Well,"  said  the  locksmith  bluntly,  "I  think  you'll  liave 
your  humor." 

"  I  will,  at  any  cost,"  rejoined  the  traveller.  "  In  proof  of 
it,  lay  this  to  heart  —  that  you  were  never  in  such  peril  of 
your  life  as  you  have  been  within  these  few  moments ;  when 
you  are  within  five  minutes  of  breathing  your  last,  you  will 
not  be  nearer  death  than  you  have  been  to-night ! " 

"  Ay  !  "  said  the  sturdy  locksmith. 

"  Ay  !  and  a  violent  death." 

"  From  whose  hand  ?  " 

"From  mine,"  replied  the  traveller. 

With  that  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  rode  away ;  at  first 
plashing  heavily  through  the  mire  at  a  smart  trot,  but  gradu- 
ally increasing  in  speed  until  the  last  sound  of  his  liorse's 
hoofs  died  away  upon  the  wind ;  when  he  was  again  hurrying 
on  at  the  same  furious  gallop,  wliich  had  been  his  pace  when 
the  locksmith  iirst  encountered  liim. 

i¥ 


24  BARXABT  BULGE. 

Gabriel  Varden  remained  standing  in  the  road  with,  the 
broken  lantern  in  his  hand,  listening  in  stupefied  silence  until 
no  sound  reached  his  ear  but  the  moaning  of  the  wind,  and 
the  fast-falling  rain ;  when  he  struck  himself  one  or  two  smart 
blows  in  the  breast  by  way  of  rousing  himself,  and  broke  into 
an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  can  this  fellow  be  !  a  mad- 
man ?  a  highwayman  ?  a  cut-throat  ?  If  he  had  not  scoured 
off  so  fast,  we'd  have  seen  who  was  in  most  danger,  he  or  I. 
I  never  nearer  death  than  I  have  been  to-night !  I  hope  I  may 
be  no  nearer  to  it  for  a  score  of  years  to  come  —  if  so,  I'll  be 
content  to  be  no  farther  from  it.  j\[y  stars  !  —  a  pretty  brag 
this  to  a  stout  man  —  pooh,  pooh  ! " 

Gabriel  resumed  his  seat,  and  looked  wistfully  up  the  road 
by  which  the  traveller  had  come ;  murmuring  in  a  half 
whisper,  — 

'■The  Maypole  —  two  miles  to  the  Maj-pole.  I  came  the 
other  road  from  the  Warren  after  a  long  day's  work  at  locks 
and  bells,  on  purpose  that  I  should  not  come  by  the  ]Maypole 
and  break  ray  promise  to  Martha  by  looking  in  —  there's 
resolution !  It  would  be  dangerous  to  go  on  to  London  with- 
out a  light;  and  it's  four  miles,  and  a  good  half-mile  besides, 
to  the  Halfway  House ;  and  between  this  and  that  is  the  very 
place  where  one  needs  a  light  most.  Two  miles  to  the  May- 
pole !  I  told  Martha  I  wouldn't ;  I  said  I  wouldn't,  and  I 
didn't  —  there's  resolution  !" 

Eepeating  these  two  last  words  very  often,  as  if  to  compen- 
sate for  the  little  resolution  he  was  going  to  show  by  piquing 
himself  on  the  great  resolution  he  had  shown,  Gabriel  Varden 
quietly  turned  back,  determining  to  get  a  light  at  the  May- 
pole, and  to  take  nothing  but  a  light. 

When  he  got  to  the  Maypole,  however,  and  Joe,  responding 
to  his  well-known  hail,  came  running  out  to  the  horse's  head, 
leaving  the  door  open  behind  him,  and  disclosing  a  delicious 
perspective  of  warmth  and  brightness  —  when  the  ruddy 
gleam  of  the  fire,  streaming  through  the  old  red  curtains  of 
the  common  room,  seemed  to  bring  with  it,  as  part  of  itself,  a 
pleasant  hum  of  voices,  and  a  fragrant  odor  of  steaming  grog 
and  rare  tobacco,  all  steeped  as  it  were  in  the  cheerful  glow  — 


BAEXABY  BUDGE.  25 

when  the  shadows,  flitting  across  the  curtain,  showed  tliat 
those  inside  had  risen  from  their  snug  seats,  and  were  making 
room  in  the  snuggest  corner  (how  well  he  knew  that  corner !) 
for  the  honest  locksmith,  and  a  broad  glare,  suddenly  stream- 
ing up,  bespoke  the  goodness  of  the  crackling  log  from  which 
a  brilliant  train  of  sparks  was  doubtless  at  that  moment 
whirling  up  the  chimney  in  honor  of  his  coming  —  wlien, 
superadded  to  these  enticements,  there  stole  upon  him  from 
the  distant  kitchen  a  gentle  sound  of  frying,  with  a  musical 
clatter  of  plates  and  dishes,  and  a  savory  smell  that  made 
even  the  boisterous  wind  a  perfume  —  Gabriel  felt  his  firmness 
oozing  rapidly  away.  He  tried  to  look  stoically  at  the  tavern, 
but  liis  features  would  relax  into  a  look  of  fondness.  He 
turned  his  head  the  other  way,  and  tlie  cold  black  country 
seemed  to  frown  him  off,  and  drive  him  for  a  refuge  into  its 
hospitable  arms. 

"  The  merciful  man,  Joe,"  said  the  locksmith,  "  is  merciful 
to  his  beast.     I'll  get  out  for  a  little  while." 

And  how  natural  it  was  to  get  out.  And  how  unnatural  it 
seemed  for  a  sober  man  to  be  plodding  wearily  along  through 
miry  roads,  encountering  the  rude  buffets  of  the  wind  and 
pelting  of  the  rain,  when  there  was  a  clean  floor  covered  with 
crisp  white  sand,  a  well-swept  hearth,  a  blazing  fire,  a  table 
decorated  with  white  cloth,  bright  pewter  flagons,  and  otlier 
tempting  preparations  for  a  well-cooked  meal  —  when  there 
were  these  things,  and  company  disposed  to  make  the  inost 
of  them,  all  ready  to  his  hand  and  entre.iting  him  to 
enjoyment ! 


26  BABNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Such  were  the  locksmith's  thoughts  when  first  seated  in 
the  snug  corner,  and  slowly  recovering  from  a  pleasant  defect 
of  vision  —  pleasant,  because  occasioned  by  the  wind  blowing 
in  his  eyes  —  which  made  it  a  matter  of  sound  policy  and  duty 
to  himself,  that  he  should  take  refuge  from  the  weather,  and 
tempted  him,  for  the  same  reason,  to  aggravate  a  slight 
cough,  and  declare  he  felt  but  poorly.  Such  were  still  his 
thoughts  more  than  a  full  hour  afterwards,  when,  supper 
over,  he  still  sat  with  shining  jovial  face  in  the  same  warm 
nook,  listening  to  the  cricket-like  chirrup  of  little  Solomon 
Daisy,  and  bearing  no  unimportant  or  slightly  respected  part 
in  the  social  gossip  round  the  Maypole  fire. 

"I  wish  he  may  be  an  honest  man,  that's  all,"  said 
Solomon,  winding  up  a  variety  of  speculations  relative  to 
the  stranger,  concerning  whom  Gabriel  had  compared  notes 
with  the  company,  and  so  raised  a  grave  discussion  ;  "/  wish 
he  may  be  an  honest  man." 

"  So  we  all  do,  I  suppose,  don't  we  ?  "  observed  the  lock- 
smith. 

"  I  don't,"  said  Joe. 

"  jSTo  ! "  cried  Gabriel. 

"  No.  He  struck  me  with  his  whip,  the  coward,  when  he 
was  mounted  and  I  afoot,  and  I  should  be  better  pleased  that 
he  turned  out  what  I  think  him." 

"And  what  may  that  be,  Joe  ?  " 

"  No  good,  Mr.  Varden.  You  may  shake  your  head,  father, 
but  I  say  no  good,  and  will  say  no  good,  and  I  would  say  no 
good  a  hundred  times  over,  if  that  would  bring  him  back  to 
have  the  drubbing  he  deserves." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  said  John  Willet. 

"  I  won't,  father.     It's  all  along  of  you  that  he  ventured  to 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  27 

do  what  he  did.  Seeing  me  treated  like  a  child,  and  put  down 
like  a  fool,  he  plucks  up  a  heart  and  has  a  fling  at  a  fellow 
that  he  thinks  —  and  may  well  think  too  —  hasn't  a  grain  of 
spirit.  But  he's  mistaken,  as  I'll  show  him,  and  as  I'll  show 
all  of  you  before  long." 

"  Does  the  boy  know  what  he's  a-saying  of ! "  cried  the 
astonished  John  Willet. 

"Father,"  returned  Joe,  '^I  know  what  I  say  and  mean, 
well  —  better  than  you  do  when  you  hear  me.  I  can  bear 
with  you,  but  I  cannot  bear  the  contempt  that  your  treating 
me  in  the  way  you  do,  brings  upon  me  from  others  every  day. 
Look  at  other  young  men  of  my  age.  Have  they  no  liberty, 
no  will,  no  right  to  speak  ?  Are  they  obliged  to  sit  mum- 
chance,  and  to  be  ordered  about  till  they  are  the  laughing- 
stock of  young  and  old  ?  I  am  a  by -word  all  over  Chigwell, 
and  I  say — and  it's  fairer  my  saying  so  now,  than  waiting 
till  you  are  dead,  and  I  have  got  your  money  —  I  say,  that 
before  long  I  shall  be  driven  to  break  such  bounds,  and  tliat 
when  I  do,  it  won't  be  me  that  you'll  have  to  blame,  but  your 
own  self,  and  no  other." 

John  Willet  was  so  amazed  by  the  exasperation  and  bold- 
ness of  his  hopeful  son,  that  he  sat  as  one  bewildered,  staring 
in  a  ludicrous  manner  at  the  boiler,  and  endeavoring,  but 
quite  ineffectually,  to  collect  his  tardy  thoughts,  and  invent 
an  answer.  The  guests,  scarcely  less  disturbed,  were  equally 
at  a  loss ;  and  at  length,  with  a  variety  of  muttered,  half- 
expressed  condolences,  and  pieces  of  advice,  rose  to  depart; 
being  at  the  same  time  slightly  muddled  with  liquor. 

The  honest  locksmith  alone  addressed  a  few  words  of 
coherent  and  sensible  advice  to  both  parties,  urging  John 
Willet  to  remember  that  Joe  was  nearly  arrived  at  man's 
estate,  and  should  not  be  ruled  with  too  tight  a  hand,  and 
exhorting  Joe  himself  to  bear  with  his  father's  caprices,  and 
rather  endeavor  to  turn  them  aside  by  temperate  remon- 
strance than  by  ill-timed  rebellion.  This  advice  was  received 
as  such  advice  usually  is.  On  John  Willet  it  made  almost  as 
much  impression  as  on  the  sign  outside  the  door,  while  Joe, 
"who  took  it  in  the  best  part,  avowed  himself  more  obliged 
than  he  could  well  express,  but  politely  intimated  his  inten- 


2^  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

tion  nevertheless  of  taking  his  own  course  uninfluenced  by 
anybody. 

"You  have  always  been  a  very  good  friend  to  me,  Mr. 
Varden,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  without,  in  the  porch,  and  the 
locksmith  was  equipping  himself  for  his  journey  home  ;  "  I 
take  it  very  kind  of  you  to  say  all  this,  but  the  time's  nearly 
come  when  the  Maypole  and  I  must  part  company." 

"  Roving^stones  gather  no  moss,  Joe,"  said  Gabriel. 

"Nor  mile-stones  much,"  replied  Joe.  "I'm  little  better 
than  one  here,  and  see  as  much  of  the  world." 

"  Then,  what  would  you  do,  Joe  ?  "  pursued  the  locksmith, 
stroking  his  chin  reflectively.  "  What  could  you  be  ?  where 
could  you  go,  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  must  trust  to  chance,  ^tr.  Yarden." 

"  A  bad  thing  to  trust  to,  Joe.  I  don't  like  it.  I  always 
tell  my  girl  when  we  talk  about  a  husband  for  her,  never  to 
trust  to  chance,  but  to  make  sure  beforehand  that  she  has  a 
good  man  and  true,  and  then  chance  will  neither  make  her 
nor  break  her.  What  are  you  fidgeting  about  there,  Joe  ? 
Nothing  gone  in  the  harness,  I  hope  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Joe  —  finding,  however,  something  very 
engrossing  to  do  in  the  way  of  strapping  and  buckling  — 
"  Miss  Dolly  quite  well  ?  " 

"Hearty,  thank  ye.  She  looks  pretty  enough  to  be  well, 
and  good  too." 

"  She's  always  both,  sir  "  — 

"  So  she  is,  thank  God  !  " 

"  I  hope,"  said  Joe  after  some  hesitation,  "  that  you  won't 
tell  this  story  against  me  —  this  of  my  having  been  beat  like 
the  boy  they'd  make  of  me — at  all  events,  till  I  have  met 
this  man  again  and  settled  the  account.  It'll  be  a  better 
story  then." 

"  Why  who  should  I  tell  it  to  ?  "  returned  Gabriel.  "  They 
know  it  here,  and  I'm  not  likely  to  come  across  anybody  else 
who  would  care  about  it." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  said  the  young  fellow  with  a  sigh. 
"  I  quite  forgot  that.     Yes,  that's  true  !  " 

So  saying,  he  raised  his  face,  which  was  very  red,  —  no 
doubt  from  the  exertion  of  strapping  and  buckling  as  afore- 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  29 

said,  —  and  giving  the  reins  to  the  old  man,  who  had  by  this 
time  taken  his  seat,  sighed  again  and  bade  him  good-night. 

"  Good-night !  "  cried  Gabriel.  "  Now  think  better  of  what 
we  have  just  been  speaking  of,  and  don't  be  rash,  there's  a 
good  fellow !  I  have  an  interest  in  yon,  and  wouldn't  have 
you  cast  yourself  away.     Good-night ! '' 

Returning  his  cheery  farewell  with  cordial  good  will,  Joe 
Willet  lingered  until  the  sound  of  wheels  ceased  to  vibrate  in 
his  ears,  and  then,  shaking  his  head  mournfully,  re-entered 
the  house. 

Gabriel  Yarden  went  his  way  towards  London,  thinking  of 
a  great  many  things,  and  most  of  all  of  flaming  terms  in 
which  to  relate  his  adventure,  and  so  account  satisfactorily  to 
Mrs.  Varden  for  visiting  the  Maypole,  despite  certain  solemn 
covenants  between  himself  and  that  lady.  Thinking  begets, 
not  only  tliought,  but  drowsiness  occasionally,  and  the  more 
the  locksmith  thought,  the  more  sleepy  he  became. 

A' man  may  be  very  sober  —  or  at  least  firmly  set  upon  his 
legs  on  that  neutral  ground  which  lies  between  the  confines 
of  perfect  sobriety  and  slight  tipsiness  —  and  yet  feel  a  strong 
tendency  to  mingle  up  present  circumstances  with  others  which 
have  no  manner  of  connection  with  them  ;  to  confound  all  con- 
sideration of  persons,  things,  times,  and  places  ;  and  to  jumble 
his  disjointed  thoughts  together  in  a  kind  of  mental  kaleido- 
scope, producing  combinations  as  unexpected  as  they  are 
transitory.  This  was  Gabriel  Varden's  state,  as,  nodding  in 
his  dog  sleep,  and  leaving  his  horse  to  pursue  a  road  with 
which  he  was  well  acquainted,  he  got  over  the  ground  uncon- 
sciously, and  drew  nearer  and  nearer  home.  He  had  roused 
himself  once,  when  the  horse  stopped  until  the  turnpike  gate 
was  opened,  and  had  cried  a  lusty  "  good-night !  "  to  the  toll- 
keeper  ;  but  then  he  awoke  out  of  a  dream  about  picking  a 
lock  in  the  stomach  of  the  Great  Mogul,  and  even  when  he 
did  wake,  mixed  up  the  turni)ike  man  witli  his  motlier-in-law 
who  had  been  dead  twenty  years.  It  is  not  surprising,  there- 
fore, that  he  soon  relapsed,  and  jogged  lieavily  along,  quite 
insensible  to  his  progress. 

And,  now,  he  approached  the  great  city,  whicli  lay  out- 
stretched   before    him    like  a  dark    shadow    on    the    ground, 


30  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

reddening  the  sluggish  air  with  a  deep  dull  light,  that  told 
of  labyrinths  of  public  ways  and  shops,  and  swarms  of  busy 
people.  Approaching  nearer  and  nearer  yet,  this  halo  began 
to  fade,  and  the  causes  which  produced  it  slowly  to  develop 
themselves.  Long  lines  of  poorly  lighted  streets  might  be 
faintly  traced,  with  here  and  there  a  lighter  spot,  where  lamps 
were  clustered  about  a  square  or  market,  or  round  some  great 
building ;  after  a  time  these  grew  more  distinct,  and  the 
lamps  themselves  were  visible  ;  slight  yellow  specks,  that 
seemed  to  be  rapidly  snuffed  out,  one  by  one,  as  intervening 
obstacles  hid  them  from  the  sight.  Then,  sounds  arose  —  the 
striking  of  church  clocks,  the  distant  bark  of  dogs,  the  hum  of 
traffic  in  the  streets;  then  outlines  might  be  traced  —  tall 
steeples  looming  in  the  air  and  piles  of  unequal  roofs 
oppressed  by  chimneys  ;  then,  the  noise  swelled  into  a  louder 
sound,  and  forms  grew  more  distinct  and  numerous  still,  and 
London  —  visible  in  the  darkness  by  its  own  faint  light,  and 
not  by  that  of  Heaven  —  was  at  hand. 

The  locksmith,  however,  all  unconscious  of  its  near  vicinity, 
still  jogged  on,  half  sleeping  and  half  waking,  when  a  loud 
cry  at  no  great  distance  ahead,  roused  him  with  a  start. 

For  a  moment  or  two  he  looked  about  him  like  a  man  who 
had  been  transported  to  some  strange  country  in  his  sleep, 
but  soon  recognizing  familiar  objects,  rubbed  his  eyes  lazily, 
and  might  have  relapsed  again,  but  that  the  cry  was  repeated 
—  not  once  or  twice  or  thrice,  but  many  times,  and  each  time, 
if  possible,  with  increased  vehemence.  Thoroughly  aroused, 
Gabriel,  who  was  a  bold  man  and  not  easily  daunted,  made 
straight  to  the  spot,  urging  on  his  stout  little  horse  as  if  for 
life  or  death. 

The  matter  indeed  looked  sufficiently  serious,  for,  coming 
to  the  place  whence  the  cries  had  proceeded,  he  descried  the 
figure  of  a  man  extended  in  an  apparently  lifeless  state  upon 
the  pathway,  and,  hovering  round  him,  another  person  with  a 
torch  in  his  hand,  which  he  waved  in  the  air  with  a  wild 
impatience,  redoubling  meanwhile  those  cries  for  help  which 
had  brought  the  locksmith  to  the  spot. 

"  What's  here  to  do  ?  "  said  the  old  man,  alighting.  ^'  How's 
this  —  what  —  Barnaby  ?  " 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  31 

The  bearer  of  the  torch  shook  his  long  loose  hair  back 
from  his  eyes,  and  tlirusting  his  face  eagerly  into  that  of  the 
locksmith,  fixed  upon  him  a  look  which  told  his  history  at 
once. 

"  You  know  me,  Barnaby  ?  "  said  Varden. 

He  nodded  —  not  once  or  twice,  but  a  score  of  times,  and 
that  with  a  fantastic  exaggeration  which  would  have  kept  his 
head  in  motion  for  an  hour,  but  that  the  locksmith  held  up 
his  finger,  and  fixing  his  eye  sternly  upon  him  caused  him  to 
desist ;  then  pointed  to  the  body  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"  There's  blood  upon  him,"  said  Barnaby  with  a  shudder. 
"  It  makes  me  sick." 

"How  came  it  there  ?  "  demanded  Varden. 

"  Steel,  steel,  steel ! "  he  replied  fiercely,  imitating  with  his 
hand  the  thrust  of  a  sword. 

"  Is  he  robbed  ?  "  said  the  locksmith. 

Barnaby  caught  him  by  the  arm,  and  nodded  "  Yes  ; "  then 
pointed  towards  the  city. 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  old  man,  bending  over  the  body  and 
looking  round  as  he  spoke  into  Barnaby's  pale  face,  strangely 
lighted  up  by  something  which  was  not  intellect.  "The 
robber  made  off  that  way,  did  he  ?  Well,  well,  never  mind 
that  just  now.  Hold  your  torch  this  way  —  a  little  farther 
off — so.  Now  stand  quiet,  while  I  try  to  see  what  harm  is 
done." 

With  these  words,  he  applied  himself  to  a  closer  examina- 
tion of  the  prostrate  form,  while  Barnaby,  holding  the  torch 
as  he  had  been  directed,  looked  on  in  silence,  fascinated  by 
interest  or  curiosity,  but  repelled  nevertheless  by  some  strong 
and  secret  horror  which  convulsed  him  in  every  nerve. 

As  he  stood,  at  that  moment,  half  shrinking  back  and  half 
bending  forward,  both  his  face  and  figure  were  full  in  the 
strong  glare  of  the  link,  and  as  distinctly  revealed  as  though 
it  had  been  broad  day.  He  was  about  three  and  twenty  years 
old,  and  though  rather  spare,  of  a  fair  height  and  strong 
make.  His  hair,  of  which  he  had  a  great  profusion,  was  red, 
and  hanging  in  disorder  about  liis  face  ant\, shoulders,  gave  to 
his  restless  looks  an  expression  quite  unearthly  —  enhanced 
by  the  paleness  of  his  complexion,  and  the  glassy  lustre  of 


32  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

his  large  protruding  eyes.  Startling  as  his  aspect  was,  the 
features  were  good,  and  there  was  something  even  plaintive 
in  his  wan  and  haggard  aspect.  But,  the  absence  of  the 
soul  is  far  more  terrible  in  a  living  man  than  in  a  dead 
one  ;  and  in  this  unfortunate  being  its  noblest  powers  were 
wanting. 

His  dress  was  of  green,  clumsily  trimmed  here  and  there  — 
apparently  by  his  own  hands  —  with  gaudy  lace;  brightest 
where  the  cloth  was  most  worn  and  soiled,  and  poorest  where 
it  was  at  the  best.  A  pair  of  tawdry  ruffles  dangled  at  his 
wrists,  while  his  throat  was  nearly  bare.  He  had  ornamented 
his  hat  with  a  cluster  of  peacock's  feathers,  but  they  were 
limp  and  broken,  and  now  trailed  negligently  down  his  back. 
Girt  to  his  side  was  the  steel  hilt  of  an  old  sword  without 
blade  or  scabbard;  and  some  party-colored  ends  of  ribbons 
and  poor  glass  toys  completed  the  ornamental  portion  of  his 
attire.  The  fluttered  and  confused  disposition  of  all  the 
motley  scraps  that  formed  his  dress,  bespoke,  in  a  scarcely 
less  degree  than  his  eager  and  unsettled  manner,  the  disorder 
of  his  mind,  and  by  a  grotesque  contrast  set  oft"  and  heightened 
the  more  impressive  wildness  of  his  face. 

"Barnaby,"  said  the  locksmith,  after  a  hasty  but  careful 
inspection,  "this  man  is  not  dead,  but  he  has  a  wound  in  his 
side,  and  is  in  a  fainting  fit." 

"  I  know  him,  I  know  him ! "  cried  Barnaby,  clapping  his 
hands. 

"  Know  him  ?  "  repeated  the  locksmith. 

"  Hush ! "  said  Barnaby,  laying  his  fingers  on  his  lips. 
"  He  went  out  to-day  a-wooing.  I  wouldn't  for  a  light  guinea 
that  he  should  never  go  a-wooing  again,  for,  if  he  did,  some 
eyes  would  grow  dim  that  are  now  as  bright  as  —  see,  when  I 
talk  of  eyes,  the  stars  come  out !  Whose  eyes  are  they  ?  If 
the}^  are  angels'  eyes,  why  do  they  look  down  here  and  see 
good  men  hurt,  and  only  wink  and  sparkle  all  the  night  ?  " 

"  Xow  Heaven  help  this  silly  fellow,"  murmured  the  per- 
plexed locksmith,  "  can  he  know  this  gentleman  ?  His 
mother's  house  is  not  far  off ;  I  had  better  see  if  she  can  tell 
me  who  he  is.  Barnaby,  my  man,  help  me  to  put  him  in  the 
chaise,  and  we'll  ride  home  together." 


BAEXABT  RUDGE.  33 

"I  can't  touch  him!"  cried  the  idiot  falling  back,  and 
shuddering  as  with  a  strong  spasm;  "he's  bloody!" 

"It's  in  his  nature  I  know,"  muttered  the  locksmith,  "it's 
cruel  to  ask  him,  but  I  must  have  help.  Barnaby  —  good 
Barnaby  —  dear  Barnaby  —  if  you  know  this  gentleman,  for 
the  sake  of  his  life  and  everybody's  life  that  loves  him,  lielp 
me  to  raise  him  and  lay  him  down." 

"  Cover  him  then,  wrap  him  close  —  don't  let  me  see  it  — 
smell  it  —  hear  the  word.     Don't  speak  the  word  —  don't !" 

"'  No,  no,  I'll  not.  There,  you  see  he's  covered  now.  Gently. 
Well  done,  well  done  !  " 

They  placed  him  in  the  carriage  with  great  ease,  for 
Barnaby  was  strong  and  active,  but  all  the  time  they  were 
so  occupied  he  shivered  from  head  to  foot,  and  evidently 
experienced  an  ecstasy  of  terror. 

This  accomplished,  and  the  wounded  man  being  covered 
with  Varden's  own  great-coat,  which  he  took  off  for  the  pur- 
pose, they  proceeded  onward  at  a  brisk  pace :  Barnaby  gayly 
counting  the  stars  upon  his  fingers,  and  Gabriel  inwardly  con- 
gratulating himself  upon  having  an  adventure  now,  which 
would  silence  Mrs.  Varden  on  the  subject  of  the  Maypole,  for- 
tliat  night,  or  there  w\as  no  faith  in  woman. 


34  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

In  the  venerable  suburb — it  was  a  suburb  once  —  of  Clerk- 
enwell,  towards  that  part  of  its  confines  which  is  nearest  to 
the  Charter  House,  and  in  one  of  those  cool,  shady  streets, 
of  which  a  few,  widely  scattered  and  dispersed,  yet  remain 
in  such  old  parts  of  the  metropolis,  —  each  tenement  quietly 
vegetating  like  an  ancient  citizen  who  long  ago  retired  from 
business,  and  dozing  on  in  its  infirmity  until  in  course  of 
time  it  tumbles  down,  and  is  replaced  by  some  extravagant 
young  heir,  flaunting  in  stucco  and  ornamental  work,  and 
all  the  vanities  of  modern  days,  —  in  this  quarter,  and  in  a 
street  of  this  description,  the  business  of  the  present  chapter 
lies. 

At  the  time  of  which  it  treats,  though  only  six  and  sixty 
years  ago,  a  very  large  part  of  what  is  London  now  had  no 
existence.  Even  in  the  brains  of  the  wildest  speculators,  there 
had  sprung  up  no  long  rows  of  streets  connecting  Highgate 
with  Whiteehapel,  no  assemblages  of  palaces  in  the  swampy 
levels,  nor  little  cities  in  the  open  fields.  Although  this  part 
of  town  was  then,  as  now,  parcelled  out  in  streets,  and  plenti- 
fully peopled,  it  wore  a  different  aspect.  There  were  gardens 
to  many  of  the  houses,  and  trees  by  the  pavement  side ;  with 
an  air  of  freshness  breathing  up  and  down,  which  in  these  days 
would  be  sought  in  vain.  Fields  were  nigh  at  hand,  through 
which  the  new  river  took  its  winding  course,  and  where  there 
was  merry  hay-making  in  the  summer  time.  Nature  was  not 
so  far  removed,  or  hard  to  get  at,  as  in  these  days ;  and 
although  there  were  busy  trades  in  Clerkenwell,  and  working 
jewellers  by  scores,  it  was  a' purer  place,  with  farmhouses 
nearer  to  it  than  many  modern  Londoners  would  readily 
believe,  and  lovers'  walks  at  no  great  distance,  which  turned 
into  squalid  courts  long  before  the  lovers  of  this  age  were 
born,  or,  as  the  phrase  goes,  thought  of. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  35 

In  one  of  these  streets,  the  cleanest  of  them  all,  and  on  the 
shady  side  of  the  way  —  for  good  housewives  know  that  sun- 
light damages  their  cherished  furniture,  and  so  choose  the 
shade  rather  than  its  intrusive  glare  —  there  stood  the  house 
with  which  we  have  to  deal.  It  was  a  modest  building,  not 
very  straight,  not  large,  not  tall;  not  bold-faced,  with  great 
staring  windows,  but  a  shy  blinking  house,  with  a  conical  roof 
going  up  into  a  peak  over  its  garret  window  of  four  small 
panes  of  glass,  like  a  cocked  hat  on  the  head  of  an  elderly 
gentleman  with  one  eye.  It  was  not  built  of  brick  or  lofty 
stone,  but  of  wood  and  plaster ;  it  was  not  planned  with  a  dull 
and  wearisome  regard  to  regularity,  for  no  one  window  matched 
the  other,  or  seemed  to  have  the  slightest  reference  to  any- 
thing besides  itself. 

The  shop  —  for  it  had  a  shop  —  was,  with  reference  to  the 
first  floor,  where  shops  usually  are  ;  and  there  all  resemblance 
between  it  and  any  other  shop  stopped  short  and  ceased. 
People  who  went  in  and  out  didn't  go  up  a  flight  of  steps  to 
it,  or  walk  easily  in  upon  a  level  with  the  street,  but  dived 
down  three  steep  stairs,  as  into  a  cellar.  Its  floor  was  paved 
with  stone  and  brick,  as  that  of  any  other  cellar  might  be  ; 
and  in  lieu  of  window  framed  and  glazed  it  had  a  great  black 
wooden  flap  or  shutter,  nearly  breast-high  from  the  ground, 
which  turned  back  in  the  daytime,  admitting  as  much  cold 
air  as  light,  and  very  often  more.  Behind  this  shop  was  a 
wainscotted  parlor,  looking  first  into  a  paved  yard,  and 
beyond  that  again  into  a  little  terrace  garden  raised  some  feet 
above  it.  Any  stranger  would  have  supposed  that  this 
wainscotted  parlor,  saving  for  the  door  of  communication  by 
which  he  had  entered,  was  cut  off  and  detached  from  all  the 
world  ;  and  indeed  most  strangers  on  their  first  entrance  were 
observed  to  grow  extremely  thoughtful,  as  weighing  and 
pondering  in  their  minds  whetlier  tlie  upper  rooms  were  only 
approachable  by  ladders  from  without ;  never  suspecting  that 
two  of  the  most  unassuming  and  unlikely  doors  in  existence, 
which  the  most  ingenious  mechanism  on  earth  must  of  neces- 
sity have  supposed  to  be  tlie  doors  of  closets,  opened  out  of 
this  room  —  each  witliout  the  smallest  preparation,  or  so  much 
as  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of  passag(^  —  upon  two  dark  winiling 


36  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

flights  of  stairs,  the  one  upward,  the  other  downward,  which 
were  the  sole  means  of  communication  between  that  chamber 
and  the  other  portions  of  the  house. 

With  all  these  oddities,  there  Avas  not  a  neater,  more 
scrupulously  tidy,  or  more  punctiliously  ordered  house,  in 
Clerkenwell,  in  London,  in  all  England.  There  were  not 
cleaner  windows,  or  whiter  floors,  or  brighter  stoves,  or  more 
highly  shining  articles  of  furniture  in  old  mahogany ;  there 
was  not  more  rubbing,  scrubbing,  burnishing,  and  polishing,  in 
the  whole  street  put  together.  Nor  was  this  excellence 
attained  without  some  cost  and  trouble  and  great  expenditure 
of  voice,  as  the  neighbors  were  frequently  reminded  when 
the  good  lady  of  the  house  overlooked  and  assisted  in  its 
being  put  to  rights  on  cleaning  days  —  which  were  usually 
from  Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  both  days  in- 
clusive. 

Leaning  against  the  door-post  of  this,  his  dwelling,  the 
locksmith  stood  early  on  the  morning  after  he  had  met  with 
the  wounded  man,  gazing  disconsolately  at  a  great  w^ooden 
emblem  of  a  key,  painted  in  vivid  yellow  to  resemble  gold, 
w^hich  dangled  from  the  house-front,  and  swung  to  and  fro 
with  a  mournful  creaking  noise,  as  if  complaining  that  it  had 
nothing  to  unlock.  Sometimes,  he  looked  over  his  shoulder 
into  the  shop,  which  was  so  dark  and  dingy  with  numerous 
tokens  of  his  trade,  and  so  blackened  by  the  smoke  of  a  little 
forge,  near  which  his  'prentice  was  at  work,  that  it  would 
have  been  difficult  for  one  unused  to  such  espials  to  have 
distinguished  anything  but  various  tools  of  uncouth  make  and 
shape,  great  bunches  of  rusty  keys,  fragments  of  iron,  half 
finished  locks,  and  such  like  things,  which  garnished  the  Avails 
and  hung  in  clusters  from  the  ceiling. 

After  a  long  and  patient  contemplation  of  the  golden  key, 
and  many  such  backward  glances,  Gabriel  stepped  into  the 
road,  and  stole  a  look  at  the  upper  windows.  One  of  them 
chanced  to  be  thrown  open  at  the  moment,  and  a  roguish  face 
met  his  ;  a  face  lighted  up  by  the  loveliest  pair  of  sparkling 
eyes  that  ever  locksmith  looked  upon  ;  the  face  of  a  pretty, 
laughing  girl ;  dimpled  and  fresh,  and  healthful  —  the  very 
impersonation  of  good-humor  and  blooming  beauty. 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  37 

"  Hush ! "  she  whispered,  bending  forward  and  pointing 
archly  to  the  window  underneath.     "  Mother  is  still  asleep." 

''  Still,  my  dear,"  returned  the  locksmith  in  the  same  tone. 
"You  talk  as  if  she  had  been  asleep  all  night,  instead  of 
little  more  than  half  an  hour.  But  I'm  very  thankful. 
Sleep's  a  blessing  —  no  doubt  about  it."  The  last  few  words 
he  muttered  to  himself. 

"  How  cruel  of  you  to  keep  us  up  so  late  this  morning, 
and  never  tell  us  where  you  were,  or  send  us  word  ! "  said 
the  girl. 

'•  Ah  Dolly,  Dolly  !  "  returned  the  locksmith,  shaking  his 
head,  and  smiling,  ''  how  cruel  of  you  to  run  up-stairs  to  bed  ! 
Come  down  ♦to  breakfast,  madcap,  and  come  down  lightly,  or 
you'll  wake  your  mother.  She  must  be  tired,  I  am  sure  — 
/am." 

Keeping  these  latter  words  to  himself,  and  returning  his 
daughter's  nod,  he  was  passing  into  the  workshop,  with  the 
smile  she  had  awakened  still  beaming  on  his  face,  when  he  ' 
just  caught  sight  of  his  'prentice^s  brown  paper  cap  ducking 
down  to  avoid  observation,  and  shrinking  from  the  window 
back  to  its  former  place,  which  the  wearer  no  sooner  reached 
than  he  began  to  hammer  lustily. 

"  Listening  again,  Simon !"  said  Gabriel  to  himself.  "  That's 
bad.  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  does  he  expect  the  girl  to 
say,  that  I  always  catch  him  listening  when  she  speaks,  and 
never  at  any  other  time !  A  bad  habit,  Sim,  a  sneaking,  un- 
derhanded way.  Ah !  you  may  hammer,  but  you  won't  beat 
that  out  of  me,  if  you  work  at  it  till  your  time's  up !  " 

So  saying,  and  shaking  his  head  gravely,  he  re-entered  the 
workshop,  and  confronted  the  subject  of  these  remarks. 

"  There's  enough  of  that  just  now,"  said  the  locksmith. 
"You  needn't  make  any  more  of  that  confounded  clatter. 
Breakfast's  ready." 

"  Sir,"  said  Sim,  looking  up  with  amazing  politeness,  and 
a  peculiar  little  bow  cut  short  off  at  the  neck.  "  I  shall 
attend  you  immediately." 

"  I  suppose,"  muttered  Gabriel,  "  that's  out  of  the  'Pren- 
tice's Garland,  or  the  'Prentice's  Delight,  or  tlie  'Prentice's 
Warbler,   or  the   'l*rentice's  (Juide  to  the   Gallows,  or  some 


38  BAEXABY  BUDGE. 

such  improving  text-book.  Now  he's  going  to  beautify  him- 
self—  here's  a  precious  locksmith  !  " 

Quite  unconscious  that  his  master  was  looking  on  from  the 
dark  corner  by  the  parlor  door,  Sim  threw  off  the  paper  cap, 
sprang  from  his  seat,  and  in  two  extraordinary  steps,  some- 
thing between  skating  and  minuet  dancing,  bounded  to  a 
washing-place  at  the  other  end  of  the  shop,  and  there  removed 
from  his  face  and  hands  all  traces  of  his  previous  work  — 
practising  the  same  step  all  the  time  with  the  utmost  gravity. 
This  done,  he  drew  from  some  concealed  place  a  little  scrap  of 
looking-glass,  and  with  its  assistance  arranged  his  hair,  and 
ascertained  the  exact  state  of  a  little  carbuncle  on  his  nose. 
Having  now  completed  his  toilet,  he  placed  the  fragment  of 
mirror  on  a  low  bench,  and  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  so 
much  of  his  legs  as  could  be  reflected  in  that  small  compass 
with  the  greatest  possible  complacency  and  satisfaction. 

Sim,  as  he  was  called  in  the  locksmith's  family,  or  Mr. 
Simon  Tappertit,  as  he  called  himself,  and  required  all  men  to 
style  him  out  of  doors,  on  holidays,  and  Sundays  out,  —  was 
an  old-fashioned,  thin-faced,  sleek-haired,  sharp-nosed,  small- 
eyed  little  fellow,  very  little  more  than  five  feet  high,  and 
thoroughly  convinced  in  his  own  mind  that  he  was  above  the 
middle  size ;  rather  tall,  in  fact,  than  otherwise.  Of  his 
figure,  which  was  well  enough  formed,  though  somewhat  of 
the  leanest,  he  entertained  the  highest  admiration ;  and  with 
his  legs,  which,  in  knee-breeches,  were  perfect  curiosities  of 
littleness,  he  was  enraptured  to  a  degree  amounting  to  enthu- 
siasm. He  also  had  some  majestic,  shadowy  ideas,  which  had 
never  been  quite  fathomed  by  his  intimate  friends,  concerning 
the  power  of  his  eye.  Indeed  he  had  been  known  to  go  so  far 
as  to  boast  that  he  could  utterly  quell  and  subdue  the 
haughtiest  beauty  by  a  simple  process,  which  he  termed 
"  eying  her  over ; "  but  it  must  be  added,  that  neither  of 
this  faculty,  nor  of  the  power  he  claimed  to  have,  through  the 
same  gift,  of  vanquishing  and  heaving  down  dumb  animals, 
even  in  a  rabid  state,  had  he  ever  furnished  evidence  which 
could  be  deemed  quite  satisfactory  and  conclusive. 

It  may  be  inferred  from  these  premises,  that  in  the  small 
body  of  ]\Ir.  Tappertit  there  was  locked  up  an  ambitious  and 


BARYABY  RUDGE.  39 

aspiring  soul.  As  certain  liquors,  confined  in  casks  too 
cramped  in  their  dimensions,  will  ferment,  and  fret,  and  chafe 
in  their  imprisonment,  so  the  spiritual  essence  or  soul  of 
Mr.  Tappertit  would  sometimes  fame  within  that  precious 
cask,  his  body,  until,  with  great  foam  and  froth  and  splutter,  it 
would  force  a  vent,  and  carry  all  before  it.  It  was  his  custom 
to  remark,  in  reference  to  any  one  of  these  occasions,  that  his 
soul  had  got  into  his  head ;  and  in  this  novel  kind  of  intoxi- 
cation, many  scrapes  and  mishaps  befell  him,  which  he  had 
frequently  concealed  with  no  small  difficulty  from  his  worthy 
master. 

Sim  Tappertit,  among  the  other  fancies  upon  which  his 
before-mentioned  soul  was  forever  feasting  and  regaling  itself 
(and  which  fancies,  like  the  liver  of  Prometheus,  grew  as  they 
were  fed  upon),  had  a  mighty  notion  of  his  order;  and  had 
been  heard  by  the  servant-maid  openly  expressing  his  regret 
that  the  'prentices  no  longer  carried  clubs  wherewith  to  mace 
the.  citizens  :  that  was  his  strong  expression.  He  was  like- 
wise reported  to  have  said  that  in  former  times  a  stigma  had 
been  cast  upon  the  body  by  tlie  execution  of  George  Barnwell, 
to  which  they  should  not  have  basely  submitted,  but  should 
have  demanded  him  of  the  legislature  —  temperately  at  first ; 
then  by  an  appeal  to  arms,  if  necessary  —  to  be  dealt  with,  as 
they  in  their  wisdom  might  think  fit.  These  thoughts  always 
led  him  to  consider  what  a  glorious  engine  the  'prentices 
might  yet  become  if  they  had  but  a  master  spirit  at  their 
head;  and  then  he  would  darkly,  and  to  the  terror  of  his 
hearers,  hint  at  certain  reckless  fellows  that  he  knew  of,  and 
at  a  certain  Lion  Heart  ready  to  become  their  captain,  who, 
once  afoot,  would  make  the  Lord  Mayor  tremble  on  his 
throne. 

In  respect  of  dress  and  personal  decoration,  Sam  Tappertit 
was  no  less  of  an  adventurous  and  enterprising  character. 
He  had  been  seen  beyond  dispute  to  pull  off  ruffles  of  the 
finest  quality  at  the  corner  of  the  street  on  Sunday  nights, 
and  to  put  them  carefully  in  his  pocket  before  returning  home  : 
and  it  was  quite  notorious  that  on  all  great  holiday  occasions 
it  was  his  habit  to  exchange  his  plain  steel  knee-buckles  for  a 
pair   of    glittering    paste,    under   cover   of    a   friendly    post. 


40  BARNABF  BUDGE. 

planted  most  conveniently  in  that  same  spot.  Add  to  this, 
that  he  was  in  years  just  twenty,  in  his  looks  much  older,  and 
in  conceit  at  least  two  hundred ;  that  he  had  no  objection  to 
be  jested  with,  touching  his  admiration  of  his  master's 
daughter  ;  and  had  even,  when  called  upon  at  a  certain 
obscure  tavern  to  pledge  the  lady  whom  he  honored  with 
his  love,  toasted  with  many  winks  and  leers,  a  fair  creature 
whose  Christian  name,  he  said,  began  with  a  D —  }  —  and  as 
much  is  known  of  Sim  Tappertit,  who  has  by  this  time 
followed  the  locksmith  in  to  breakfast,  as  is  necessary  to  be 
known  in  making  his  acquaintance. 

It  was  a  substantial  meal ;  for,  over  and  above  the  ordinary 
tea  equipage,  the  board  creaked  beneath  the  weight  of  a  jolly 
round  of  beef,  a  ham  of  the  first  magnitude,  and  sundry  towers 
of  buttered  Yorkshire  cake,  piled  slice  upon  slice  in  most 
alluring  order.  There  was  also  a  goodly  jug  of  well-browned 
clay,  fashioned  into  the  form  of  an  old  gentleman,  not  by  any 
means  unlike  the  locksmith,  atop  of  whose  bald  head  was  a 
fine  white  froth  answering  to  his  wig,  indicative,  beyond 
dispute,  of  sparkling  home-brewed  ale.  But,  better  far  than 
fair  home-brewed,  or  Yorkshire  cake,  or  ham,  or  beef,  or  any- 
thing to  eat  or  drink  that  earth  or  air  or  water  can  suj^ply, 
there  sat,  presiding  over  all,  the  locksmith's  rosy  daughter, 
before  whose  dark  eyes  even  beef  grew  insignificant,  and  malt 
became  as  nothing. 

Fathers  should  never  kiss  their  daughters  when  young  men 
are  by.  It's  too  much.  There  are  bounds  to  human  endur- 
ance. So  thought  Sim  Tappertit  when  Gabriel  drew  those 
rosy  lips  to  his  —  those  lips  within  Sim's  reach  from  day  to 
day,  and  yet  so  far  off.  He  had  a  respect  for  his  master,  but 
he  wished  the  Yorkshire  cake  might  choke  him. 

"  Father,"  said  the  locksmith's  daughter,  when  this  salute 
was  over,  and  they  took  their  seats  at  table,  "  what  is  this  I 
hear  about  last  night  ?" 

"  All  true,  my  dear ;  true  as  the  Gospel,  Doll." 

"Young  Mr.  Chester  robbed,  and  lying  wounded  in  the 
road,  when  you  came  up  ?  " 

"Ay  —  Mr.  Edward.  And  beside  him,  Barnaby  calling 
for  help  with  all  his  might.     It  was  well  it  happened  as  it 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  41 

did  :  for  the  road's  a  lonely  one,  the  hour  was  late,  and  the 
night  being  cold,  and  poor  Barnaby  even  less  sensible  than 
usual  from  surprise  and  fright,  the  young  gentleman  might 
have  met  his  death  in  a  very  short  time." 

"  I  dread  to  think  of  it ! "  cried  his  daughter  with  a 
shudder.     "  How  did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Know  him  !  "  returned  the  locksmith.  "  I  didn't  know 
him  —  how  could  I  ?  I  had  never  seen  him,  often  as  I  had 
heard  and  spoken  of  him.  I  took  him  to  Mrs.  Eudge's ;  and 
she  no  sooner  saw  him  than  the  truth  came  out." 

"  ^liss  Emma,  father — If  this  news  should  reach  her, 
enlarged  upon  as  it  is  sure  to  be,  she  will  go  distracted." 

"  Why,  lookye  there  again,  how  a  man  suffers  for  being 
good-natured,"  said  the  locksmith.  "  Miss  Emma  was  with 
her  uncle  at  the  masquerade  at  Carlisle  House,  where  she  had 
gone,  as  the  people  at  the  Warren  told  me,  sorely  against  her 
will.  What  does  your  blockhead  father  when  he  and  Mrs. 
Rudge  have  laid  their  heads  together,  but  goes  there  when  he 
ought  to  be  abed,  makes  interest  with  his  friend  the  door- 
keeper, slips  him  on  a  mask  and  domino,  and  mixes  with  the 
maskuers." 

"And  like  himself  to  do  so !  "  cried  the  girl,  putting  her 
fair  arm  round  his  neck,  and  giving  him  a  most  enthusiastic 
kiss. 

"  Like  himself ! "  repeated  Gabriel,  affecting  to  grumble, 
but  evidently  delighted  with  the  part  he  had  taken,  and  with 
her  praise.  "Very  like  himself  —  so  3' our  mother  said. 
However,  he  mingled  with  the  crowd,  and  prettily  worried 
and  badgered  he  was,  I  warrant  you,  with  people  squeaking, 
'Don't  you  know  me?'  and  'I've  found  you  out,'  and  all 
that  kind  of  nonsense  in  his  ears.  He  might  have  wandered 
on  till  now,  but  in  a  little  room  there  was  a  young  lady  who 
had  taken  off  her  mask,  on  account  of  the  place  being  very 
warm,  and  was  sitting  there  alone." 

"  And  that  was  she  ?  "  said  his  daughter  hastily. 

"And  that  was  she,"  replied  the  locksmith;  '-'and  I  no 
sooner  whispered  to  her  wliat  the  matter  \\*as  —  as  softly, 
Doll,  and  with  nearly  as  much  art  as  you  could  have  used 
yourself  —  than  she  gives  a  kind  of  scream  and  faints  away." 


42  BAUNABY  BUDGE. 

"  What  did  you  do  —  what  happened  next  ?  "  asked  his 
daughter. 

''  Why,  the  masks  came  flocking  round,  with  a  general 
noise  and  hubbub,  and  I  thought  myself  in  luck  to  get  clear 
off,  that's  all,"  rejoined  the  locksmith.  "  What  happened 
when  I  reached  home  you  may  guess,  if  you  didn't  hear  it. 
Ah  !  Well,  it's  a  poor  heart  that  never  rejoices — Put  Toby 
this  way,  my  dear." 

This  Toby  was  the  brown  jug  of  which  previous  mention 
has  been  made.  Applying  his  lips  to  the  worthy  old  gentle- 
man's benevolent  forehead,  the  locksmith,  who  had  all  this 
time  been  ravaging  among  the  eatables,  kept  them  there  so 
long,  at  the  same  time  raising  the  vessel  slowly  in  the  air, 
that  at  length  Toby  stood  on  his  head  upon  his  nose,  when  he 
smacked  his  lips  and  set  him  on  the  table  again  with  fond 
r^uctance. 

Although  Sim  Tappertit  had  taken  no  share  in  this  conver- 
sation, no  part  of  it  being  addressed  to  him,  he  had  not  been 
wanting  in  such  silent  manifestations  of  astonishment,  as  he 
deemed  most  compatible  with  the  favorable  display  of  his 
eyes.  Eegarding  the  pause  which  now  ensued,  as  a  particu- 
larly advantageous  opportunity  for  doing  great  execution  with 
them  upon  the  locksmith's  daughter  (who  he  had  no  doubt 
was  looking  at  him  in  mute  admiration),  he  began  to  screw 
and  twist  his  face,  and  especially  those  features,  into  such 
extraordinary,  hideous,  and  unparalleled  contortions,  that 
Gabriel,  who  happened  to  look  towards  him,  was  stricken 
with  amazement. 

"  Why,  w^hat  the  devil's  the  matter  with  the  lad  ?  "  cried 
the  locksmith.     "  Is  he  choking  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  Sim,  with  some  disdain. 

"  Who  ?  why,  you,"  returned  his  master.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  making  those  horrible  faces  over  your  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Faces  are  matters  of  taste,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit, 
rather  discomfited ;  not  the  less  so  because  he  saw  the  lock- 
smith's daughter  smiling. 

"  Sim,"  rejoined  Gabriel,  laughing  heartily.  ^'  Don't  be  a 
fool,  for  I'd  rather  see  you  in  your  senses.  These  young 
fellows,"   he   added,   turning   to   his  daughter,  "  are   always 


<■  _-  •)    !  ■  f^-r- "! 


,1    ■  '  1 

r  ^ 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  43 

committing  some  folly  or  another.  There  was  a  quarrel 
between  Joe  Willet  and  old  John  last  night  —  though  I  can't 
say  Joe  was  much  in  fault  either.  He'll  be  missing  one  of 
these  mornings,  and  will  have  gone  away  upon  some  wild- 
goose  errand,  seeking  his  fortune.  —  Why,  what's  the  matter, 
Doll  ?  You  are  making  faces  now.  The  girls  are  as  bad  as 
tlie  boys  every  bit ! " 

''  It's  the  tea,"  said  Dolly  turning  alternately  very  red  and 
very  white,  which  is  no  doubt  the  effect  of  a  slight  scald  — 
"so  very  hot." 

Mr.  Tappertit  looked  immensely  big  at  a  quartern  loaf  on 
the  table,  and  breathed  hard. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  returned  the  locksmith.  ^'  Put  some  more 
milk  in  it.  —  Yes,  I  am  sorry  for  Joe,  because  he  is  a  likely 
young  fellow,  and  gains  upon  one  every  time  one  sees  him. 
But  he'll  start  off,  you'll  find.  Indeed  he  told  me  as  much 
himself  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  "  cried  Dolly  in  a  faint  voice.     '^  In — deed  !  " 

"  Is  the  tea  tickling  3'our  throat  still,  my  dear  ?  "  said  the 
locksmith. 

But,  before  his  daughter  could  make  him  any  answer,  she 
was  taken  with  a  troublesome  cough,  and  it  was  such  a 
very  unpleasant  cough  that,  when  she  left  off,  the  tears  were 
starting  in  her  bright  eyes.  The  good-natured  locksmith  was 
still  patting  her  on  the  back  and  applying  such  gentle 
restoratives,  when  a  message  arrived  from  Mrs.  Varden, 
making  known  to  all  whom  it  might  concern,  that  she  felt  too 
much  indisposed  to  rise  after  her  great  agitation  and  anxiety 
of  the  previous  night ;  and  therefore  desired  to  be  immediately 
accommodated  with  a  little  black  teapot  of  strong  mixed  tea, 
a  couple  of  rounds  of  buttered  toast,  a  middling-sized  dish  of 
beef  and  ham  cut  thin,  and  the  Protestant  IVIanual  in  two 
volumes,  post  octavo.  Like  some  other  ladies  who  in  remote 
ages  flourished  upon  this  globe,  ^Irs.  Varden  was  most  devout 
when  most  ill-tempered.  Whenever  she  and  her  husband 
were  at  unusual  variance,  then  the  Protestant  Manual  was  in 
liigh  feather. 

Knowing  from  experience  what  these  requests  portended, 
tlie  triumvirate  broke  up;  Dolly,  to  see  the  orders   executed 


44  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

with  all  despatch ;  Gabriel,  to  some  out-of-door  work  in  his 
little  chaise  ;  and  Sim,  to  his  daily  duty  in  the  workshop,  to 
which  retreat  he  carried  the  big  look,  although  the  loaf  re- 
mained behind. 

Indeed  the  big  look  increased  immensely,  and  when  he  had 
tied  his  apron  on,  became  quite  gigantic.  It  was  not  until  he 
had  several  times  walked  up  and  down  with  folded  arms,  and 
the  longest  strides  he  could  take,  and  had  kicked  a  great 
many  small  articles  out  of  his  way,  that  his  lip  began  to 
curl.  At  length  a  gloomy  derision  came  upon  his  features, 
and  he  smiled ;  uttering  meanwhile  with  supreme  contempt 
the  monosyllable  "  Joe  !  " 

"I  eyed  her  over,  while  he  talked  about  the  fellow,"  he 
said,  "  and  that  was  of  course  the  reason  of  her  being  confused. 
Joe  ! " 

He  walked  up  and  down  again  much  quicker  than  before, 
and  if  possible  with  longer  strides ;  sometimes  stopping  to 
take  a  glance  at  his  legs,  and  sometimes  to  jerk  out  and  cast 
from  him  another  "  Joe  !  "  In  the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  or  so  he  again  assumed  the  paper  cap  and  tried  to  work. 
No.     It  could  not  be  done. 

"I'll  do  nothing  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  dashing  it 
down  again,  "  but  grind.  I'll  grind  up  all  the  tools.  Grind- 
ing will  suit  my  present  humor  well.     Joe  !  " 

AVhirr-r-r-r.  The  grindstone  was  soon  in  motion  ;  the  sparks 
were  flying  off  in  showers.  This  was  the  occupation  for  his 
heated  spirit. 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r. 

"  Something  will  come  of  this  !  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  paus- 
ing as  if  in  triumph,  and  wiping  his  heated  face  upon  his  sleeve. 
"  Something  will  come  of  this.  I  hope  it  mayn't  be  human 
gore ! " 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  45 


CHAPTEE  V. 

As  soon  as  the  business  of  the  day  was  over,  the  locksmith 
sallied  forth,  alone,  to  visit  the  wounded  gentleman  and 
ascertain  the  progress  of  his  recovery.  The  house  where  he 
had  left  him  was  in  a  by-street  in  Southwark,  not  far  from 
London  Bridge;  and  thither  he  hied  with  ^ all  speed,  bent 
upon  returning  with  as  little  delay  as  might  be,  and  getting  to 
bed  betimes. 

The  evening  was  boisterous  —  scarcely  better  than  the 
previous  night  had  been.  It  was  not  easy  for  a  stout  man 
like  Gabriel  to  keep  his  legs  at  the  street  corners,  or  to  make 
head  against  the  high  wind,  which  often  fairly  got  the  better 
of  him  and  drove  him  back  some  paces,  or,  in  defiance  of  all 
his  energy,  forced  him  to  take  shelter  in  an  arch  or  doorway 
until  the  fury  of  the  gust  was  spent.  Occasionally  a  hat  or 
wig,  or  both,  came  spinning  and  trundling  past  him,  like  a 
mad  thing ;  while  the  more  serious  spectacle  of  falling  tiles 
and  slates,  or  of  masses  of  brick  and  mortar  or  fragments  of 
stone-coping  rattling  upon  the  pavement  near  at  hand,  and 
splitting  into  fragments,  did  not  increase  the  pleasure  of  the 
journey,  or  make  the  way  less  dreary. 

"  A  trying  night  for  a  man  like  me  to  walk  in  ! "  said  the 
locksmith,  as  he  knocked  softly  at  the  widow's  door.  "  I'd 
rather  be  in  old  John's  chimney  corner,  faith  ! " 

"Who's  there?"  demanded  a  woman's  voice  from  within. 
Being  answered,  it  added  a  hasty  word  of  welcome,  and  the 
door  was  quickly  opened. 

She  was  about  forty  —  perhaps  two  or  three  years  older  — 
with  a  cheerful  as})ect,  and  a  face  that  had  once  been  pretty. 
It  bore  traces  of  affliction  and  care,  but  they  were  of  an  old 
date^  and  Time  had  smoothed  them.  Any  one  who  had 
bestowed  but  a  casual  glance  on  Barnaby  might  have  known 
that   this    was    his   mother,    from    the    strong    resemblance 


46  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

between  them ;  but  where  in  his  face  there  was  wildness  and 
vacancy,  in  hers  there  was  the  patient  composure  of  long 
effort  and  quiet  resignation. 

One  thing  about  this  face  was  very  strange  and  startling. 
You  could  not  look  upon  it  in  its  most  cheerful  mood  without 
feeling  that  it  had  some  extraordinary  capacity  of  expressing 
terror.  It  was  not  on  the  surface.  It  was  in  no  one  feature 
that  it  lingered.  You  could  not  take  the  eyes,  or  mouth,  or 
lines  upon  the  cheek,  and  say  if  this  or  that  were  otherwise, 
it  would  not  be  so.  Yet  there  it  always  lurked  —  something 
forever  dimly  seen,  but  ever  there,  and  never  absent  for  a 
moment.  It  was  the  faintest,  palest  shadow  of  some  look,  to 
Avhich  an  instant  of  intense  and  most  unutterable  horror  only 
could  have  given  birth ;  but  indistinct  and  feeble  as  it  was, 
it  did  suggest  what  that  look  must  have  been,  and  fixed  it  in 
the  mind  as  if  it  had  had  existence  in  a  dream. 

More  faintly  imaged,  and  wanting  force  and  purpose,  as  it 
were,  because  of  his  darkened  intellect,  there  was  this  same 
stamp  upon  the  son.  Seen  in  a  picture  it  must  have  had 
some  legend  with  it,  and  would  have  haunted  those  who 
looked  upon  the  canvas.  They  who  knew  the  ^Maypole  story, 
and  could  remember  what  the  widow  was,  before  her  hus- 
band's and  his  master's  murder,  understood  it  well.  They 
recollected  how  the  change  had  come,  and  could  call  to  mind 
that  when  her  son  was  born,  upon  the  very  day  the  deed  was 
known,  he  bore  upon  his  wrist  what  seemed  a  smear  of  blood 
but  half  washed  out. 

"  God  save  you,  neighbor ! "  said  the  locksmith,  as  he  fol- 
lowed her  with  the  air  of  an  old  friend,  into  a  little  parlor 
where  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning. 

"And  you,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "Your  kind  heart 
has  brought  you  here  again.  Nothing  will  keep  you  at  home, 
I  know  of  old,  if  there  are  friends  to  serve  or  comfort,  out  of 
doors." 

"  Tut,  tut,"  returned  the  locksmith,  rubbing  his  hands  and 
warming  them.  "You  women  are  such  talkers.  What  of 
the  patient,  neighbor  ?  " 

"  He  is  sleeping  now.  He  was  very  restless  towards  daj^- 
light,  and  for  some  hours  tossed  and  tumbled  sadly.     But  the 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  47 

fever  has  left  him,  and  the  doctor  says  he  will  soon  mend. 
He  must  not  be  removed  until  to-morrow." 

"He   has   had  visitors    to-day  —  humph  ? "    said    Gabriel, 

slyly- 

"Yes.  Old  Mr.  Chester  has  been  here  ever  since  we  sent 
for  him,  and  had  not  been  gone  many  minutes  when  you 
knocked." 

"No  ladies?"  said  Gabriel,  elevating  his  eyebrows  and 
looking  disappointed. 

"  A  letter,"  replied  the  widow. 

"Come.  That's  better  than  nothing!"  cried  the  lock- 
smith.    "  Who  was  the  bearer  ?  " 

"Barnaby,  of  course." 

"Barnaby's  a  jewel!"  said  Varden  ;  "and  comes  and  goes 
with  ease  where  we  who  think  ourselves  much  wiser  would 
make  but  a  poor  hand  of  it.     He  is  not  out  wandering,  again, 

I  hope  ?  " 

^' Thank  Heaven  he  is  in  his  bed;  having  been  up  all 
night,  as  you  know,  and  on  his  feet  all  day.  He  was  quite 
tired  out.  Ah,  neighbor,  if  I  could  but  see  him  oftener  so 
if  I  could  but  tame  down  that  terrible  restlessness  "  — 

"  In  good  time,"  said  the  locksmith,  kindly,  "  in  good  time 

—  don't  be  down-hearted.     To  my  mind  he  grows  wiser  every 

day." 

The  widow  shook  her  head.  And  yet,  though  she  knew 
the  locksmith  sought  to  cheer  her,  and  spoke  from  no  convic- 
tion of  his  own,  she  was  glad  to  hear  even  this  praise  of  her 
poor  benighted  son. 

"He  will  be  a  'cute  man  yet,"  resumed  the  locksmith. 
"Take  care  when  we  are  growing  old  and  foolish,  Barnaby 
doesn't  put  us  to  the  blush,  that's  all.  But  our  other  friend," 
he  added,  looking  under  the  table  and  about  the  floor  — 
"sharpest  and  cunningest  of  all  the  sharp  and  cunning  ones 

—  Where's  he  ?  " 

"In  Barnaby's  room,"  rejoined  the  widow,   with  a  faint 

smile. 

"Ah!  He's  a  knowing  blade!"  said  Varden,  shaking  his 
head.  "I  should  be  sorry  to  talk  secrets  before  him.  Oh! 
He's  a  deep  customer,  I've  no  doubt  he  can  read,  and  write, 


48  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

and  cast  accounts  if  he  chooses.  What  was  that  —  him  tap- 
ping at  the  door  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  the  widow.  "  It  was  in  the  street,  I  think. 
Hark  !  Yes.  There  again !  'Tis  some  one  knocking  softly 
at  the  shutter.     Who  can  it  be  ! " 

They  had  been  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  for  the  invalid  lay 
overhead,  and  the  walls  and  ceilings  being  thin  and  poorly 
built,  the  sound  of  their  voices  might  otherwise  have  dis- 
turbed his  slumber.  The  party  without,  whoever  it  was, 
could  have  stood  close  to  the  shutter  without  hearing  any- 
thing spoken ;  and,  seeing  the  light  through  the  chinks  and 
finding  all  so  quiet,  might  have  been  persuaded  that  only  one 
person  was  there. 

"Some  thief  or  ruffian,  maybe,"  said  the  locksmith. 
"  Give  me  the  light." 

"No,  no,"  she  returned  hastily.  "Such  visitors  have 
never  come  to  this  poor  dwelling.  Do  you  stay  here. 
You're  within  call,  at  the  worst.  I  would  rather  go  myself  — 
alone." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  the  locksmith,  unwillingly  relinquishing  the 
candle  he  had  caught  up  from  the  table. 

"Because  —  I  don't  know  why  —  because  the  wish  is  strong 
upon  me,"  she  rejoined.  "There  again  —  do  not  detain  me,  I 
beg  of  you  !  " 

Gabriel  looked  at  her  in  great  surprise  to  see  one  who  was 
usually  so  mild  and  quiet  thus  agitated,  and  with  so  little 
cause.  She  left  the  room  and  closed  the  door  behind  her. 
She  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  hesitating,  with  her  hand 
upon  the  lock.  In  this  short  interval  the  knocking  came 
again,  and  a  voice  close  to  the  window  —  a  voice  the  locksmith 
seemed  to  recollect,  and  to  have  some  disagreeable  association 
with  —  whispered  "Make  haste." 

The  words  were  uttered  in  that  low  distinct  voice  which 
finds  its  way  so  readily  to  sleepers'  ears,  and  wakes  them  in  a 
fright.  For  a  moment  it  startled  even  the  locksmith ;  who 
involuntarily  drew  back  from  the  window,  and  listened. 

The  wind  rumbling  in  the  chimney  made  it  difficult  to  hear 
what  passed,  but  he  could  tell  that  the  door  was  opened,  that 
there  was  the  tread  of  a  man  upon  the  creaking  boards,  and 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  49 

then  a  moment's  silence  —  broken  by  a  suppressed  something 
which  was  not  a  shriek,  or  groan,  or  cry  for  help,  and  yet 
might  have  been  either  or  all  three ;  and  the  words  "  My 
God ! "  uttered  in  a  voice  it  chilled  him  to  hear. 

He  rushed  out  upon  the  instant.  There,  at  last,  was  that 
dreadful  look  —  the  very  one  he  seemed  to  know  so  well  and 
yet  had  never  seen  before  —  upon  her  face.  There  she  stoo.d, 
frozen  to  the  ground,  gazing  with  starting  eyes,  and  livid 
cheeks,  and  every  feature  fixed  and  ghastly,  upon  the  man  he 
had  encountered  in  the  dark  last  night.  His  eyes  met  those 
of  the  locksmith.  It  was  but  a  flash,  an  instant,  a  breath 
upon  a  polished  glass,  and  he  was  gone. 

The  locksmith  was  upon  him  —  had  the  skirts  of  his  stream- 
ing garment  almost  in  his  grasp  —  when  his  arms  were  tightly 
clutched,  and  the  widow  flung  herself  upon  the  ground  before 
him. 

"  The  other  way  —  the  other  way,"  she  cried.  "  He  went 
the  other  way.     Turn  —  turn  !  " 

"  The  other  way  !  I  see  him  now,"  rejoined  the  locksmith, 
pointing  —  "yonder  —  there  —  there  is  liis  shadow  passing  by 
that  light.     What  —  who  is  this  ?     Let  me  go." 

"  Come  back,  come  back  !  "  exclaimed  the  woman,  clasping 
him  ;  "  Do  not  touch  him  on  3^our  life.  I  charge  you,  come 
back.     He  carries  other  lives  besides  his  own.     Come  back ! " 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  cried  the  locksmith. 

"No  matter  what  it  means,  don't  ask,  don't  speak,  don't 
think  about  it.  He  is  not  to  be  followed,  checked,  or  stopped. 
Come  back ! " 

The  old  man  looked  at  her  in  wonder,  as  she  writhed  and 
clung  about  him ;  and,  borne  down  by  her  passion,  suffered 
her  to  drag  him  into  the  house.  It  was  not  until  she  had 
chained  and  double-locked  the  door,  fastened  every  bolt  and 
bar  with  the  heat  and  fury  of  a  maniac,  and  drawn  him 
back  into  the  room,  that  she  turned  upon  him,  once  again, 
that  stony  look  of  horror,  and  sinking  down  into  a  cljair, 
covered  her  face,  and  shuddered  as  though  the  hand  of  death 
were  on  her. 


VOL.  I. 


50  BARNABY  BUDGE, 


CHAPTER  YI. 

Beyond  all  measure  astonished  by  the  strange  occurrences 
which  had  passed  with  so  much  violence  and  rapidity,  the 
locksmith  gazed  upon  the  shuddering  figure  in  the  chair  like 
one  half  stupefied,  and  would  have  gazed  much  longer,  had 
not  his  tongue  been  loosened  by  compassion  and  humanity. 

"You  are  ill,"  said  Gabriel.  "Let  me  call  some  neigh- 
bor in." 

"Not  for  the  world,"  she  rejoined,  motioning  to  him  with 
her  trembling  hand,  and  still  holding  her  face  averted.  "  It 
is  enough  that  you  have  been  by,  to  see  this." 

"  Nay,  more  than  enough  —  or  less,"  said  Gabriel. 

"Be  it  so,"  she  returned.  "As  you  like.  Ask  me  no 
questions,  I  entreat  you." 

"  Neighbor,"  said  the  locksmith,  after  a  pause.  "  Is  this 
fair,  or  reasonable,  or  just  to  yourself  ?  Is  it  like  you,  who 
have  known  me  so  long  and  sought  my  advice  in  all  matters 
—  like  you,  who  from  a  girl  have  had  a  strong  mind  and  a 
stanch  heart  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  need  of  them,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  growing 
old,  both  in  years  and  care.  Perhaps  that,  and  too  much 
trial,  have  made  them  weaker  than  they  used  to  be.  Do  not 
speak  to  me." 

"  How  can  I  see  what  I  have  seen,  and  hold  my  peace  !  " 
returned  the  locksmith.  "Who  was  that  man,  and  why  has 
his  coming  made  this  change  in  you  ?  " 

She  was  silent,  but  held  to  the  chair  as  though  to  save  her- 
self from  falling  on  the  ground. 

"  I  take  the  license  of  an  old  acquaintance,  Mary,"  said  the 
locksmith,  "  who  has  ever  had  a  warm  regard  for  you,  and 
maybe  has  tried  to  prove  it  when  he  could.  Who  is  this  ill- 
favored  man,  and  what  has  he  to  do  with  you  ?  Who  is  this 
ghost,  that  is  only  seen  in  the  black  nights  and  bad  weather  ? 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  51 

How  does  he  know,  and  why  does  he  haunt  this  house,  whis- 
pering through  chinks  and  crevices,  as  if  there  was  that 
between  him  and  you,  which  neither  durst  so  much  as  speak 
aloud  of  ?     Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  You  do  well  to  say  he  haunts  this  house,"  returned  the 
widow,  faintly.  "His  shadow  has  been  upon  it  and  me,  in 
light  and  darkness,  at  noonday  and  midnight.  And  now,  at 
last,  he  has  come  in  the  body ! " 

"But  he  wouldn't  have  gone  in  the  body,"  returned  the 
locksmith  with  some  irritation,  "  if  you  had  left  my  arms  and 
legs  at  liberty.     What  riddle  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  one,"  she  answered,  rising  as  she  spoke,  "  that  must 
remain  forever  as  it  is.     I  dare  not  say  more  than  that." 

"  Dare  not !  "  repeated  the  wondering  locksmith. 

"  Do  not  press  me,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  sick  and  faint, 
and  every  faculty  of  life  seems  dead  within  me.  —  Xo  !  —  Do 
not  touch  me,  either." 

Gabriel,  who  had  stepped  forward  to  render  her  assistance, 
fell  back  as  she  made  this  hasty  exclamation,  and  regarded 
her  in  silent  wonder. 

"Let  me  go  my  way  alone,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "and 
let  the  hands  of  no  honest  man  touch  mine  to-night."  When 
she  had  tottered  to  the  door,  she  turned,  and  added  with  a 
stronger  effort,  "  This  is  a  secret,  which,  of  necessity,  I  trust 
to  you.  You  are  a  true  man.  As  you  have  ever  been  good 
and  kind  to  me,  —  keep  it.  If  any  noise  was  heard  above, 
make  some  excuse — say  anything  but  what  you  really  saw, 
and  never  let  a  word  or  look  between  us,  recall  this  circum- 
stance. I  trust  to  you.  Mind,  I  trust  to  you.  How  much  I 
trust,  you  never  can  conceive." 

Casting  her  eyes  upon  him  for  an  instant,  she  withdrew, 
and  left  him  there  alone. 

Gabriel,  not  knowing  what  to  think,  stood  staring  at  the 
door  with  a  countenance  full  of  surprise  and  dismay.  The 
more  he  pondered  on  what  had  passed,  the  less  able  he  was 
to  give  it  any  favorable  interpretation.  To  find  this  widow 
woman,  whose  life  for  so  many  years  had  been  supposed  to  be 
one  of  solitude  and  retirement,  and  who,  in  her  quiet  suffering 
character,  had  gained  the  good  opinion  and  respect  of  all  who 


52  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

knew  her  —  to  find  her  linked  mysteriously  with  an  ill-omened 
man,  alarmed  at  his  appearance,  and  yet  favoring  his  escape, 
was  a  discovery  that  pained  as  much  as  it  startled  him. 
Her  reliance  on  his  secrecy,  and  his  tacit  acquiescence,  in- 
creased his  distress  of  mind.  If  he  had  spoken  boldly,  per- 
sisted in  questioning  her,  detained  her  when  she  rose  to 
leave  the  room,  made  any  kind  of  protest,  instead  of  silently 
compromising  himself,  as  he  felt  he  had  done,  he  would  have 
been  more  at  ease. 

"  Whj^  did  I  let  her  say  it  was  a  secret,  and  she  trusted  it 
to  me ! "  said  Gabriel,  putting  his  wig  on  one  side  to  scratch 
his  head  with  greater  ease,  and  looking  ruefully  at  the  fire. 
"  I  have  no  more  readiness  than  old  John  himself.  Why 
didn't  I  say  firmly,  '  You  have  no  right  to  such  secrets,  and  I 
demand  of  you  to  tell  me  what  this  means,'  instead  of  standing 
gaping  at  her,  like  an  old  mooncalf  as  I  am  !  But  there's  my 
weakness.  I  can  be  obstinate  enough  with  men  if  need  be,  but 
women  may  twist  me  round  their  fingers  at  their  pleasure." 

He  took  his  wig  off  outright  as  he  made  this  reflection,  and 
warming  his  handkerchief  at  the  fire  began  to  rub  and  polish 
his  bald  head  with  it,  until  it  glistened  again. 

''  And  yet,"  said  the  locksmith,  softening  under  this  sooth- 
ing process,  and  stopping  to  smile,  "  it  may  be  nothing.  Any 
drunken  brawler  trying  to  make  his  way  into  the  house, 
would  have  alarmed  a  quiet  soul  like  her.  But  then"  —  and 
here  was  the  vexation  —  "  how  came  it  to  be  that  man ;  how 
comes  he  to  have  this  influence  over  her ;  how  came  she  to 
favor  his  getting  away  from  me ;  and,  more  than  all,  how 
came  she  not  to  say  it  was  a  sudden  fright,  and  nothing 
more  ?  It's  a  sad  thing  to  have,  in  one  minute,  reason  to 
mistrust  a  person  I  have  known  so  long,  and  an  old  sweet, 
heart  into  the  bargain :  but  what  else  can  I  do,  with  all  thia 
upon  my  mind  !  —  Is  that  Barnaby  outside  there  ?  " 

"Ay!"  he  cried,  looking  in  and  nodding.  "Sure  enough 
it's  Barnaby  —  how  did  3'ou  guess  ?  " 

"  By  your  shadow,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"  Oho  !  "  cried  Barnaby,  glancing  over  his  shoulder,  "  He's 
a  merry  fellow,  that  shadow,  and  keeps  close  to  me,  though  I 
am  silly.     We  have  such  pranks,  such  walks,  such  runs,  such 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  53 

gambols  on  the  grass  !  Sometimes  he'll  be  half  as  tall  as  a 
church  steeple,  and  sometimes  no  bigger  than  a  dwarf.  Now, 
he  goes  on  before,  and  now  behind,  and  anon  he'll  be  stealing 
slyly  on,  on  this  side,  or  on  that,  stopping  whenever  I  stop, 
and  thinking  I  can't  see  him,  though  I  have  my  eye  on  him 
sharp  enough.  Oh  !  he's  a  merry  fellow.  Tell  me  —  is  he 
silly  too  !     I  think  he  is." 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Gabriel. 

"  Because  he  never  tires  of  mocking  me,  but  does  it  all  day 
long.  —  Why  don't  you  come  ?  " 

"  Where  ?  " 

'^  Up-stairs.  He  wants  you.  Stay  —  where's  his  shadow  ? 
Come.     Yoii're  a  wise  man  ;  tell  me  that." 

"  Beside  him,  Barnaby ;  beside  him,  I  suppose,"  returned 
the  locksmith. 

"No  !"  he  replied,  shaking  his  head.     "Guess  again." 

"  Gone  out  a-walking,  maybe  ?  " 

"He  has  changed  shadows  with  a  woman,"  the  idiot 
whispered  in  his  ear,  and  then  fell  back  with  a  look  of 
triumph.  "Her  shadow's  always  with  him,  and  his  with 
her.     That's  sport,  I  think,  eh  ?  " 

"Barnaby,"  said  the  locksmith,  with  a  grave  look;  "come 
hither,  lad." 

"'  I  know  what  you  want  to  say.  I  know !  "  he  replied, 
keeping  away  from  him.  "But  I'm  cunning,  I'm  silent.  I 
only  say  so  much  to  you  —  are  you  ready  ?  "  As  he  spoke,  he 
caught  up  the  light,  and  waved  it  with  a  wild  laugh  above 
his  head. 

"Softly  —  gently,"  said  the  locksmith,  exerting  all  his 
influence  to  keep  him  calm  and  quiet.  "  I  thought  you  had 
been  asleep." 

"  So  I  have  been  asleep,"  he  rejoined,  with  widely  opened 
eyes.  "There  have  been  great  faces  coming  and  going  — 
close  to  my  face,  and  then  a  mile  away  —  low  places  to  creej) 
through,  whether  I  would  or  no  —  high  churches  to  fall  down 
from  —  strange  creatures  crowded  up  together  neck  and  heels, 
to  sit  upon  the  bed — that's  sleep,  eh  ?  " 

"Dreams,  Barnaby,  dreams,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"Dreams!"  he  echoed  softly,  drawing  closer  to  liim. 
"Those  are  not  dreams." 


54  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  What  are,"  replied  the  locksmith,  "  if  they  are  not  ?  " 

"I  dreamed,"  said  Barnaby,  passing  his  arm  through 
Varden's,  and  peering  close  into  his  face  as  he  answered  in  a 
whisper,  "I  dreamed  just  now  that  something  —  it  was  in  the 
shape  of  a  man  —  followed  me  —  came  softly  after  me  — 
wouldn't  let  me  be  —  but  was  always  hiding  and  crouching, 
like  a  cat  in  dark  corners,  waiting  till  I  should  pass  ;  when  it 
crept  out  and  came  softly  after  me.  —  Did  you  ever  see  me 
run  ?  " 

"  Many  a  time,  you  know." 

"You  never  saw  me  run  as  I  did  in  this  dream.  Still  it 
came  creeping  on  to  worry  me.  Nearer,  nearer,  nearer  —  I 
ran  faster  —  leaped  —  sprung  out  of  bed,  and  to  the  window  — 
and  there,  in  the  street  below —  but  he  is  waiting  for  us.  Are 
you  coming  ?  " 

"  What  in  the  street  below,  Barnaby  ? "  said  Varden, 
imagining  that  he  traced  some  connection  between  this  vision 
and  what  had  actually  occurred. 

Barnaby  looked  into  his  face,  muttered  incoherently,  waved 
the  light  above  his  head  again,  laughed,  and  drawing  the 
locksmith's  arm  more  tightly  through  his  own,  led  him  up 
the  stairs  in  silence. 

They  entered  a  homely  bedchamber,  garnished  in  a  scanty 
way  with  chairs  whose  spindle-shanks  bespoke  their  age,  and 
other  furniture  of  ver}-  little  worth;  but  clean  and  neatly 
kept.  Eeclining  in  an  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  pale  and 
weak  from  waste  of  blood,  was  Edward  Chester,  the  young 
gentleman  w^ho  had  been  the  first  to  quit  the  Maypole  on  the 
previous  night,  and  who,  extending  his  hand  to  the  locksmith, 
welcomed  him  as  his  preserver  and  friend. 

"  Say  no  more,  sir,  say  no  more,"  said  Gabriel.  "  I  hope 
I  would  have  done  at  least  as  much  for  any  man  in  such  a 
strait,  and  most  of  all  for  you,  sir.  A  certain  young  lady," 
he  added,  with  some  hesitation,  "  has  done  us  many  a  kind 
turn,  and  we  naturally  feel  —  I  hope  I  give  you  no  offence  in 
saying  this,  sir  ?  " 

The  young  man  smiled  and  shook  his  head;  at  the  same 
time  moving  in  his  chair  as  if  in  pain. 

"  It's   no   great   matter,"  he  said,   in  answer  to  the  lock- 


BAENABT  BUDGE,  65 

smithes  sympathizing  look,  "  a  mere  uneasiness  arising  at 
least  as  much  from  being  cooped  up  here,  as  from  the  slight 
wound  I  have,  or  from  the  loss  of  blood.  Be  seated,  Mr. 
Varden." 

"  If  I  may  make  so  bold,  Mr.  Edward,  as  to  lean  upon 
your  chair,"  returned  the  locksmith,  accommodating  his  action 
to  his  speech,  and  bending  over  him,  "  I'll  stand  here,  for  the 
convenience  of  speaking  low.  Barnaby  is  not  in  his  quietest 
humor  to-night,  and  at  such  times  talking  never  does  him 
good." 

They  both  glanced  at  the  subject  of  this  remark,  who  had 
taken  a  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  and,  smiling  vacantly, 
was  making  puzzles  on  his  fingers  with  a  skein  of  string. 

"Pray,  tell  me,  sir,"  said  Varden,  dropping  his  voice  still 
lower,  "  exactly  what  happened  last  night.  I  have  my  reason 
for  inquiring.     You  left  the  Maypole,  alone  ?  " 

"  And  walked  homeward  alone,  until  I  had  nearly  reached 
the  place  where  you  found  me,  when  I  heard  the  gallop  of  a 
horse." 

"  —  Behind  you  ?  "  said  the  locksmith. 

"Indeed,  yes  —  behind  me.  It  was  a  single  rider,  who 
soon  overtook  me,  and  checking  his  horse,  inquired  the  way 
to  London." 

"  You  were  on  the  alert,  sir,  knowing  how  many  highway- 
men there  are,  scouring  the  roads  in  all  directions  ? "  said 
Varden. 

"  I  was,  but  I  had  only  a  stick,  having  imprudently  left  my 
pistols  in  their  holster-case  with  the  landlord's  son.  I  directed 
him  as  he  desired.  Before  the  words  had  passed  my  lips,  he 
rode  upon  me  furiously,  as  if  bent  on  trampling  me  down 
beneath  his  horse's  hoofs.  In  starting  aside,  I  slipped  and 
fell.  You  found  me  with  this  stab  and  an  ugly  bruise  or  two, 
and  without  my  purse  —  in  which  he  found  little  enough  for 
his  pains.  And  now,  Mr.  Varden,"  he  added,  shaking  the 
locksmith  by  the  hand,  "  saving  the  extent  of  my  gratitude  to 
you,  you  know  as  much  as  I." 

"Except,"  said  Gabriel,  bending  down  yet  more,  and  looking 
cautiously  towards  their  silent  neighbor,  "except  in  respect 
of  the  robber  liimself.     What  like  was  he,  sir  ?     Speak  low, 


56  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

if  you  please.  Barnaby  means  no  harm,  but  I  have  watched 
him  oftener  than  you,  and  I  know,  little  as  you  would  think 
it,  that  he's  listening  now." 

It  required  a  strong  confidence  in  the  locksmith's  veracity 
to  lead  any  one  to  this  belief,  for  every  sense  and  faculty  that 
Barnaby  possessed,  seemed  to  be  fixed  upon  his  game,  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  other  things.  Something  in  the  young  man's 
face  expressed  this  opinion,  for  Gabriel  repeated  what  he  had 
just  said,  more  earnestly  than  before,  and  with  another  glance 
towards  Barnaby,  again  asked  what  like  the  man  was. 

"The  night  was  so  dark,"  said  Edward,  "the  attack  so 
sudden,  and  he  so  wrapped  and  muffled  up,  that  I  can  hardly 
say.     It  seems  that"  — 

"Don't  mention  his  name,  sir,"  returned  the  locksmith, 
following  his  look  towards  Barnaby;  "I  know  he  saw  him. 
I  want  to  know  what  you  saw." 

"All  I  remember  is,"  said  Edward,  "that  as  he  checked  his 
horse  his  hat  was  blown  off.  He  caught  it  and  replaced  it  on 
his  head,  which  I  observed  was  bound  with  a  dark  handker- 
chief. A  stranger  entered  the  Maypole  while  I  was  there, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  —  for  I  sat  apart  for  reasons  of  my  own 
—  and  when  I  rose  to  leave  the  room  and  glanced  round,  he 
was  in  the  shadow  of  the  chimney  and  hidden  from  my  sight. 
But,  if  he  and  the  robber  were  two  different  persons,  their 
voices  were  strangely  and  most  remarkably  alike ;  for  directly 
the  man  addressed  me  in  the  road,  I  recognized  his  speech 
again." 

"It  is  as  I  feared.  The  very  man  was  here  to-night," 
thought  the  locksmith,  changing  color.  "  What  dark  history 
is  this  ! " 

"  Halloa  !  "  cried  a  hoarse  voice  in  his  ear.  "  Halloa,  halloa, 
halloa!     Bow  wow  wow.     What's  the  matter  here  !     Halloa!" 

The  speaker  —  who  made  the  locksmith  start,  as  if  he  had 
seen  some  supernatural  agent  —  was  a  large  raven,  who  had 
perched  upon  the  top  of  the  easy-chair,  unseen  by  him  and 
Edward,  and  listened  with  a  polite  attention  and  a  most 
extraordinary  appearance  of  comprehending  every  word,  to  all 
they  had  said  up  to  this  point ;  turning  his  head  from  one  to 
the  other,  as  if  his  office  were  to  judge  between  them,  and  it 


i:    t> 


BARNABY  RUBGE.  57 

were  of  the  very  last  importance  that  he  should  not  lose  a 
word. 

"  Look  at  him  !  "  said  Varden,  divided  between  admiration 
of  the  bird  and  a  kind  of  fear  of  him.  "  Was  there  ever  such 
a  knowing  imp  as  that !     Oh  he's  a  dreadful  fellow  !  " 

The  raven,  with  his  head  very  much  on  one  side,  and  his 
bright  eye  shining  like  a  diamond,  preserved  a  thoughtful 
silence  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  replied  in  a  voice  so  hoarse 
and  distant,  that  it  seemed  to  come  through  his  thick  feathers 
rather  than  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Halloa,  halloa,  halloa !  What's  the  matter  here  !  Keep 
up  your  spirits.  ISTever  say  die.  Bow  wow  wow.  I'm  a  devil, 
I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil.  Hurrah  !  "  —  And  then,  as  if  exult- 
ing in  his  infernal  character,  he  began  to  whistle. 

"  I  more  than  half  believe  he  speaks  the  truth.  Upon  my 
word  I  do,"  said  Varden.  "  Do  you  see  how  he  looks  at  me, 
as  if  he  knew  what  I  was  saying  ?  " 

To  which  the  bird,  balancing  himself  on  tiptoe,  as  it  were, 
and  moving  his  body  up  and  down  in  a  sort  of  grave  dance, 
rejoined,  ''  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,"  and  flapped 
his  wings  against  his  sides  as  if  he  were  bursting  witli  laughter. 
Barnaby  clapped  his  hands,  and  fairly  rolled  upon  the  ground 
in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

"  Strange  companions,  sir,"  said  the  locksmith,  shaking  his 
head  and  looking  from  one  to  the  other.  "  The  bird  has  all 
the  wit." 

"  Strange  indeed  !  "  said  Edward,  holding  out  his  forefinger 
to  the  raven,  who,  in  acknowledgment  of  the  attention,  made 
a  dive  at  it  iftimediately  with  his  iron  bill.     "Is  he  old  ?  " 

"  A  mere  boy,  sir,"  replied  the  locksmith.  "  A  hundred  and 
twenty,  or  thereabouts.     Call  him  down,  Barnaby,  my  man." 

"  Call  him ! "  echoed  Barnaby,  sitting  upright  upon  the 
floor,  and  staring  vacantly  at  Gabriel,  as  he  thrust  his  hair 
back  from  his  face.  "  But  who  can  make  him  come !  He 
calls  me,  and  makes  me  go  where  he  will.  He  goes  on 
before,  and  I  follow.  He's  the  master,  and  I'm  the  man.  Is 
that  the  truth.  Grip  ?  " 

The  raven  gave  a  short,  comfortable,  confidential  kind  of 
croak :  a  most  expressive  croak,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  You 


6S  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

needn't  let  these  fellows  into  our  secrets.  We  understand 
each  other.     It's  all  right." 

"/make  hitn  come  ?"  cried  Barnaby,  pointing  to  the  bird. 
"  Him,  who  never  goes  to  sleep,  or  so  much  as  winks !  — 
Why,  any  time  of  night,  you  may  see  his  eyes  in  my  dark 
room,  shining  like  two  sparks.  And  every  night,  and  all 
night  too,  he's  broad  awake,  talking  to  himself,  thinking 
what  he  shall  do  to-morrow,  where  we  shall  go,  and  what 
he  shall  steal,  and  hide,  and  bury.  /  make  him  come  !  Ha, 
ha,  ha ! " 

On  second  thoughts,  the  bird  appeared  disposed  to  come  of 
himself.  After  a  short  survey  of  the  ground,  and  a  few  side- 
long looks  at  the  ceiling  and  at  everybody  present  in  turn,  he 
fluttered  to  the  floor,  and  went  to  Barnaby  —  not  in  a  hop,  or 
w^alk,  or  run,  but  in  a  pace  like  that  of  a  very  particular 
gentleman  with  exceedingly  tight  boots  on,  trying  to  walk 
fast  over  loose  pebbles.  Then,  stepping  into  his  extended 
hand,  and  condescending  to  be  held  out  at  arm's-length,  he 
gave  vent  to  a  succession  of  sounds,  not  unlike  the  drawing  of 
some  eight  or  ten  dozen  of  long  corks,  and  again  asserted  his 
brimstone  birth  and  parentage  with  great  distinctness. 

The  locksmith  shook  his  head  —  perhaps  in  some  doubt  of 
the  creature's  being  really  nothing  but  a  bird  —  perhaps  in 
pity  for  Barnaby,  who  by  this  time  had  him  in  his  arms,  and 
was  rolling  about,  with  him,  on  the  ground.  As  he  raised 
his  eyes  from  the  poor  fellow  he  encountered  those  of  his 
mother,  who  had  entered  the  room,  and  was  looking  on  in 
silence. 

She  was  quite  white  in  the  face,  even  to  her  lips,  but  had 
wholly  subdued  her  emotion,  and  wore  her  usual  quiet  look. 
Varden  fancied  as  he  glanced  at  her  that  she  shrunk  from  his 
eye  !  and  that  she  busied  herself  about  the  w^ounded  gentleman 
to  avoid  him  the  better. 

It  was  time  he  went  to  bed,  she  said.  He  was  to  be 
removed  to  his  own  home  on  the  morrow,  and  he  had  already 
exceeded  his  time  for  sitting  up,  by  a  full  hour.  Acting  on 
this  hint,  the  locksmith  prepared  to  take  his  leave. 

'' By-the-by,"  said  Edward,  as  he  shook  him  by  the  hand, 
and  looked  from  hin;  to  Mrs.  Eudge  and  back  again,  "  what 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  69 

noise  was  that  below  ?  I  heard  your  voice  in  the  midst  of  it, 
and  should  have  inquired  before,  but  our  other  conversation 
drove  it  from  my  memory.     What  was  it  ?  '^ 

The  locksmith  looked  towards  her,  and  bit  his  lip.  She 
leaned  against  the  chair,  and  bent  her  eyes  upon  the  ground. 
Barnaby  too  —  he  was  listening. 

—  "Some  mad  or  drunken  fellow,  sir,"  Varden  at  length 
made  answer,  looking  steadily  at  the  widow  as  he  spoke. 
"He  mistook  the  house,  and  tried  to  force  an  entrance." 

She  breathed  more  freely,  but  stood  quite  motionless.  As 
the  locksmith  said  "  Good-night,"  and  Barnaby  caught  up  the 
candle  to  light  him  down  the  stairs,  she  took  it  from  him,  and 
charged  him  —  with  more  haste  and  earnestness  than  so  slight 
an  occasion  appeared  to  warrant  —  not  to  stir.  The  raven 
followed  them  to  satisfy  himself  that  all  was  right  below,  and 
when  they  reached  the  street-door,  stood  on  the  bottom  stair 
drawing  corks  out  of  number. 

With  a  trembling  hand  she  unfastened  the  chain  and  bolts 
and  turned  the  key.  As  she  had  her  hand  upon  the  latch,  the 
locksmith  said  in  a  low  voice,  — ■_ 

"I  have  told  a  lie  to-night,  for  your  sake,  Mary,  and  for 
the  sake  of  bygone  times,  and  old  acquaintance,  when  I  would 
scorn  to  do  so  for  my  own.  I  hope  I  may  have  done  no  harm, 
or  led  to  none.  I  can't  help  the  suspicions  you  have  forced 
upon  me,  and  I  am  loath,  I  tell  you  plainly,  to  leave  Mr 
Edward  here.  Take  care  he  comes  to  no  hurt.  I  doubt  the 
safety  of  this  roof,  and  am  glad  he  leaves  it  so  soon.  Now, 
let  me  go." 

"For  a  moment  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept ;  but 
resisting  the  strong  impulse  wliich  evidently  moved  her  to 
reply,  opened  the  door  —  no  wider  than  was  sufficient  for  the 
passage  of  his  body  —  and  motioned  him  away.  As  the  lock- 
smith stood  upon  the  step,  it  was  chained  and  locked  behind 
him,  and  the  raven,  in  furtherance  of  these  precautions,  barked 
like  a  lusty  house-dog. 

"  In  league  with  that  ill-looking  figure  that  might  have 
fallen  from  a  gibbet  —  he  listening  and  hiding  here  —  Barnaby 
first  upon  the  spot  last  night  —  can  she  who  has  always  l)orne 
so  fair  a  name  be  guilty  of  such  crimes  in  secret ! "  said  the 


60  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

locksmith,  musing.  ^^  Heaven  forgive  me  if  I  am  wrong,  and 
send  me  just  thoughts  ;  but  she  is  poor,  the  temptation  may 
be  great,  and  we  daily  hear  of  things  as  strange. — Ay,  bark 
away,  my  friend.  If  there's  any  wickedness  going  on,  that 
raven's  in  it,  I'll  be  sworn." 


BARNABY  BULGE.  61 


CHAPTER   VIT. 

Mrs.  Varden  was  a  lady  of  what  is  commonly  called  an 
uncertain  temper  —  a  phrase  which  being  interpreted  signifies 
a  temper  tolerably  certain  to  make  everybody  more  or  less 
uncomfortable.  Thus  it  generally  happened,  that  when  other 
people  were  merry,  Mrs.  Varden  was  dull  ;  and  that  when 
other  people  were  dull,  Mrs.  Varden  was  disposed  to  be  amaz- 
ingly cheerful.  Indeed  the  worthy  housewife  was  of  such  a 
capricious  nature,  that  she  not  only  attained  a  higher  pitch  of 
genius  than  Macbeth,  in  respect  of  her  ability  to  be  wise, 
amazed,  temperate  and  furious,  loyal  and  neutral  in  an  instant, 
but  would  sometimes  ring  the  changes  backwards  and  forwards 
on  all  possible  moods  and  flights  in  one  short  quarter  of  an 
hour ;  performing,  as  it  were,  a  kind  of  triple  bob  major  on 
the  peal  of  instruments  in  the  female  belfry,  with  a  skilful- 
ness  and  rapidity  of  execution  that  astonished  all  who  heard 
her. 

It  had  been  observed  in  this  good  lady  (who  did  not  want 
for  personal  attractions,  being  plump  and  buxom  to  look  at, 
though  like  her  fair  daughter,  somewhat  short  in  stature)  that 
this  uncertainty  of  disposition  strengthened  and  increased  with 
her  temporal  prosperity  ;  and  divers  wise  men  and  matrons  on 
friendly  terms  with  the  locksmith  and  his  family,  even  went 
so  far  as  to  assert,  that  a  tumble-down  some  half-dozen  rounds 
in  the  world's  ladder  —  such  as  the  breaking  of  the  bank  in 
which  her  husband  kept  his  money,  or  some  little  fall  of  that 
kind  —  would  be  the  making  of  her,  and  couhl  hardly  fail  to 
render  her  one  of  the  most  agreeable  companions  in  existence. 
Whether  they  were  right  or  wrong  in  this  conjecture,  certain 
it  is  that  minds,  like  bodies,  will  often  fall  into  a  pimpled  ill- 
conditioned  state  from  mere  excess  of  comfort,  and  like  them, 
are  often  successfully  cured  by  renu'dies  in  themselves  very 
nauseous  and  unpalatable. 


62  BABNABT  BULGE. 

Mrs.  Varden's  chief  aider  and  abetter,  and  at  the  same  time 
her  principal  victim  and  object  of  wrath,  was  her  single  domes- 
tic servant,  one  Miss  ^liggs  ;  or  as  she  was  called,  in  conformity 
with  those  prejudices  of  society  which  lop  and  top  from  poor 
handmaidens  all  such  genteel  excrescences  —  Miggs.  This 
Miggs  was  a  tall  young  lady,  very  much  addicted  to  pattens 
'in  private  life  ;  slender  and  shrewish,  of  a  rather  uncomfort- 
able figure,  and  though  not  absolutely  ill-looking,  of  a  sharp 
and  acid  visage.  As  a  general  principle  and  abstract  proposi- 
tion, Miggs  held  the  male  sex  to  be  utterly  contemptible  and 
unworthy  of  notice  ;  to  be  fickle,  false,  base,  sottish,  inclined  to 
perjury,  and  wholly  undeserving.  When  particularly  exasper- 
ated against  them  (which,  scandal  said,  was  when  Sim  Tapper- 
tit  slighted  her  most)  she  was  accustomed  to  wish  with  great 
emphasis  that  the  whole  race  of  women  could  but  die  off,  in 
order  that  the  men  might  be  brought  to  know  the  real  value 
of  the  blessings  by  which  they  set  so  little  store  ;  nay,  her 
feeling  for  her  order  ran  so  high,  that  she  sometimes  declared, 
if  she  could  only  have  good  security  for  a  fair,  round  number 
—  say  ten  thousand  —  of  young  virgins  following  her  example, 
she  would,  to  spite  mankind,  hang,  drown,  stab,  or  poison  her- 
self, with  a  joy  past  all  expression. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Miggs  that  greeted  the  locksmith,  when 
he  knocked  at  his  own  house,  with  a  shrill  cry  of  "Who's 
there  ? " 

"Me,  girl,  me,"  returned  Gabriel. 

"  What,  already,  sir  ! "  said  Miggs,  opening  the  door  with  a 
look  of  surprise.  "W^e  was  just  getting  on  our  nightcaps  to 
sit  up,  — me  and  mistress.     Oh,  she  has  been  so  bad  !  " 

Miggs  said  this  with  an  air  of  uncommon  candor  and  con- 
cern ;  but  the  parlor  door  was  standing  open,  and  as  Gabriel 
very  well  knew  for  whose  ears  it  was  designed,  he  regarded 
her  with  anything  but  an  approving  look  as  he  passed  in. 

"Master's  come  home,  mim,"  cried  Miggs,  running  before 
him  into  the  parlor.  "  You  was  wrong,  mim,  and  I  was  right. 
I  thought  he  wouldn't  keep  us  up  so  late  two  nights  running, 
mim.  Master's  always  considerate  so  far.  I'm  so  glad,  mim, 
on  your  account.  I'm  a  little"  —  here  Miggs  simpered  —  "a 
little  sleepy  myself ;  I'll  own  it  now,  mim,  though  I  said  I 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  63 

wasn't  when  you  asked  me.  It  ain't  of  no  consequence,  mini, 
of  course." 

*'You  had  better,"  said  the  locksmith,  who  most  devoutly 
wished  that  Barnaby's  raven  was  at  Miggs's  ankles,  "you  liad 
better  get  to  bed  at  once  then." 

"Thanking  you  kindly,  sir,"  returned  Miggs,  "I  couldn't 
take  my  rest  in  peace,  nor  fix  my  thoughts  upon  my  prayers, 
otherways  than  that  I  knew  mistress  was  comfortable  in  her 
bed  this  night ;  by  rights  she  should  have  been  there,  hours 
ago." 

"You're  talkative,  mistress,"  said  Varden,  pulling  off  his 
great-coat,  and  looking  at  her  askew. 

"Taking  the  hint,  sir,"  cried  Miggs,  with  a  flushed  face, 
"and  thanking  you  for  it  most  kindly,  I  will  make  bold  to 
say,  that  if  I  give  offence  by  having  consideration  for  my  mis- 
tress, I  do  not  ask  your  pardon,  but  am  content  to  get  myself 
into  trouble  and  to  be  in  suffering." 

Here  Mrs.  Yarden,  who,  with  her  countenance  shrouded  in  a 
large  nightcap,  had  been  all  this  time  intent  upon  the  Protes- 
tant Manual,  looked  round,  and  acknowledged  Miggs's  cham- 
pionship by  commanding  her  to  hold  her  tongue. 

Every  little  bone  in  ^liggs's  throat  and  neck  developed  itself 
with  a  spitefulness  quite  alarming,  as  she  replied,  "  Yes,  mini, 
I  will." 

"  How  do  you  find  yourself  now,  my  dear  ?  "  said  the  lock- 
smith, taking  a  chair  near  his  wife  (who  had  resumed  her 
book),  and  rubbing  his  knees  hard  as  he  made  the  inquiry. 

"  You're  very  anxious  to  know,  ain't  you  ?  "  returned  Mrs. 
Yarden,  with  her  eyes  upon  the  print.  "  You,  that  have  not 
been  near  me  all  day,  and  wouldn't  have  been  if  I  was 
dying  ! " 

"  My  dear  Martlia  "  —  said  Gabriel. 

Mrs.  Yarden  turned  over  to  the  next  page  ;  then  went  back 
again  to  the  bottom  line  over  leaf  to  be  quite  sure  of  tlie  last 
words,  and  then  went  on  reading  with  an  appearance  of  the 
deepest  interest  and  study. 

"My  dear  Martha,"  §aid  the  locksmith,  "how  can  you  say 
such  things,  when  you  know  you  don't  mean  them?  If  you 
were  dying  !     Why,  if  there  was  anything  serious  the  matter 


64  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

with  3'ou,  Martha,  shouldn't  I  be  in  constant  attendance  upon 
you  ?  " 

"Yes!"  cried  Mrs.  Varden,  bursting  into  tears,  "yes,  you 
would.  I  don't  doubt  it,  Varden.  Certainly  you  would. 
That's  as  much  as  to  tell  me  that  you  would  be  hovering 
round  me  like  a  vulture,  waiting  till  the  breath  was  out  of  my 
body,  that  you  might  go  and  marry  somebody  else." 

Miggs  groaned  in  sympathy  —  a  little  short  groan,  checked 
in  its  birth,  and  changed  into  a  cough.  It  seemed  to  say,  "  I 
can't  help  it.  It's  wrung  from  me  by  the  dreadful  brutality 
of  that  monster  master." 

"  But  you'll  break  my  heart  one  of  these  days,"  added  Mrs. 
Varden,  with  more  resignation,  "  and  then  we  shall  both  be 
happy.  My  only  desire  is  to  see  Dolly  comfortably  settled, 
and  when  she  is,  you  may  settle  me  as  soon  as  you  like." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Miggs  —  and  coughed  again. 

Poor  Gabriel  twisted  his  wig  about  in  silence  for  a  long 
time,  and  then  said  mildly,  "  Has  Dolly  gone  to  bed  ?  " 

"Your  master  speaks  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  looking 
sternly  over  her  shoulder  at  Miss  Miggs  in  waiting. 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  spoke  to  you,"  suggested  the  locksmith. 

"  Did  you  hear  me,  Miggs  ?  "  cried  the  obdurate  lady, 
stamping  her  foot  upon  the  ground.  "  You  are  beginning  to 
despise  me  now,  are  you  ?     But  this  is  example  ! " 

At  this  cruel  rebuke,  Miggs,  whose  tears  were  always 
ready,  for  large  or  small  parties,  on  the  shortest  notice  and 
the  most  reasonable  terms,  fell  a-crying  violently ;  holding 
both  her  hands  tight  upon  her  heart  meanwhile,  as  if  nothing 
less  would  prevent  its  splitting  into  small  fragments.  Mrs. 
Varden,  who  likewise  possessed  that  faculty  in  high  perfec- 
tion, wept  too,  against  Miggs ;  and  with  such  effect  that 
Miggs  gave  in  after  a  time,  and,  except  for  an  occasional  sob, 
which  seemed  to  threaten  some  remote  intention  of  breaking 
out  again,  left  her  mistress  in  possession  of  the  field.  Her 
superiority  being  thoroughly  asserted,  that  lady  soon  desisted 
likewise,  and  fell  into  a  quiet  melancholy. 

The  relief  was  so  great,  and  the  fatiguing  occurrences  of 
last  night  so  completely  overpowered  the  locksmith,  that  he 
nodded  in  his  chair,  and  would  doubtless  have  slept  there  all 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  65 

night,  but  for  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Varden,  which,  after  a  pause 
of  some  five  minutes,  awoke  him  with  a  start. 

"If  I  am  ever,"  said  Mrs.  V. — not  scolding,  but  in  a  sort 
of  monotonous  remonstrance  —  "  in  spirits,  if  I  am  ever  cheer- 
ful, if  I  am  ever  more  than  usually  disposed  to  be  talkative 
and  comfortable,  this  is  the  way  I  am  treated." 

"  Such  spirits  as  you  was  in  too,  mini,  but  half  an  hour 
ago  !"  cried  Miggs.     "I  never  see  such  company  !  " 

"Because,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  "because  I  never  interfere 
or  interrupt,  because  I  never  question  where  anybody  comes 
or  goes ;  because  my  whole  mind  and  soul  is  bent  on  saving 
where  I  can  save,  and  laboring  in  this  house  ; — therefore,  they 
try  me  as  they  do." 

"  Martha,"  urged  the  locksmith,  endeavoring  to  look  as 
wakeful  as  possible,  "  what  is  it  you  complain  of  ?  I  really 
came  home  with  every  wish  and  desire  to  be  happy.  I  did, 
indeed." 

"What  do  I  complain  of !  "  retorted  his  wife.  " Is  it  a 
chilling  thing  to  have  one's  husband  sulking  and  falling 
asleep  directly  he  comes  home  —  to  have  him  freezing  all 
one's  warm-heartedness,  and  throwing  cold  water  over  the 
fireside  ?  Is  it  natural,  when  I  know  he  went  out  upon  a 
matter  in  which  I  am  as  much  interested  as  anybody  can  be, 
that  I  should  wish  to  know  all  that  has  happened,  or  that  he 
should  tell  me  without  my  begging  and  praying  him  to  do  it  ? 
Is  that  natural,  or  is  it  not  ?  " 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Martha,"  said  the  good-natured  lock- 
smith. "  I  was  really  afraid  you  were  not  disposed  to  talk 
pleasantly ;  I'll  tell  you  everything ;  I  shall  only  be  too  glad, 
my  dear." 

"  No,  Varden,"  returned  his  wife,  rising  with  dignity.  "  I 
dare  say  —  thank  you  !  I'm  not  a  child  to  be  corrected  one 
minute  and  petted  the  next  —  I'm  a  little  too  old  for  that, 
Varden.  Miggs,  carry  the  light.  You  can  be  cheerful, 
Miggs,  at  least." 

Miggs,  who,  to  this  moment,  had  been  in  the  ver}^  depths  of 
compassionate  despondency,  passed  instantly  into  the  liveliest 
state  conceivable,  and  tossing  her  head  as  she  glanced  towards 
the  locksmith,  bore  off  her  mistress  and  the  light  together. 

VOL.  I. 


66  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

"Now,  who  would  think,"  thought  Varden,  shrugging  his 
shoulders  and  drawing  his  chair  nearer  to  the  fire,  "  that  that 
woman  could  ever  be  pleasant  and  agreeable  ?  And  yet  she 
can  be.  Well,  well,  all  of  us  have  our  faults.  I'll  not  be 
hard  upon  hers.  We  have  been  man  and  wife  too  long  for 
that." 

He  dozed  again  —  not  the  less  pleasantly,  perhaps,  for  his 
hearty  temper.  While  his  eyes  were  closed,  the  door  leading 
to  the  upper  stairs  was  partially  opened ;  and  a  head  a|> 
peared,  which,  at  sight  of  him,  hastily  drew  back  again. 

"I  wish,"  murmured  Gabriel,  waking  at  the  noise,  and 
looking  round  the  room,  "I  wish  somebody  would  marry 
Miggs.  But  that's  impossible !  I  wonder  whether  there's 
any  madman  alive,  who  would  marry  Miggs  !  " 

This  was  such  a  vast  speculation  that  he  fell  into  a  doze 
again,  and  slept  until  the  fire  was  quite  burnt  out.  At  last 
he  roused  himself ;  and  having  double-locked  the  street-door 
according  to  custom,  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket,  went  off 
to  bed. 

He  had  not  left  the  room  in  darkness  many  minutes,  when 
the  head  again  appeared,  and  Sim  Tappertit  entered,  bearing 
in  his  hand  a  little  lamp. 

"  What  the  devil  business  has  he  to  stop  up  so  late ! " 
muttered  Sim,  passing  into  the  workshop,  and  setting  it 
down  upon  the  forge.  "Here's  half  the  night  gone  already. 
There's  only  one  good  that  has  ever  come  to  me,  out  of  this 
cursed  old  rusty  mechanical  trade,  and  that's  this  piece  of 
ironmongery,  upon  my  soul !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  from  the  right  hand,  or  rather  right 
leg  pocket  of  his  smalls,  a  clumsj^^  large-sized  key,  which  he 
inserted  cautiously  in  the  lock  his  master  had  secured,  and 
softly  opened  the  door.  That  done,  he  replaced  his  piece  of 
secret  workmanship  in  his  pocket ;  and  leaving  the  lamp 
burning,  and  closing  the  door  carefully  and  without  noise, 
stole  out  into  the  street  —  as  little  suspected  by  the  locksmith 
in  his  sound  deep  sleep,  as  by  Barnaby  himself  in  his  phantom- 
haunted  dreams. 


BARNABT  KUDGE.  67 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 

Clear  of  the  locksmith's  house,  Sim  Tappertit  laid  aside 
his  cautious  manner,  and  assuming  in  its  stead  that  of  a  ruf- 
flino-,  swaggering,  roving  blade,  who  would  rather  kill  a  man 
thaS  otherwise,  and  eat  him  too  if  needful,  made  the  best  of 
his  way  along  the  darkened  streets. 

Half  pausing  for  an  instant  now  and  then  to  smite  his 
pocket  and  assure  himself  of  the  safety  of  his  master  key,  he 
hurried  on  to  Barbican,  and  turning  into  one  of  the  narrowest 
of  the  narrow  streets  which  diverged  from  that  centre,  slack- 
ened his  pace  and  wiped  his  heated  brow,  as  if  the  termination 
of  his  walk  were  near  at  hand. 

It  was  not  a  very  choice  spot  for  midnight  expeditions, 
beincT  in  truth  one  of  more  than  questionable  character,  and 
of  an  appearance  by  no  means  inviting.  From  the  main 
street  he  had  entered,  itself  little  better  than  an  alley,  a  low- 
browed doorway  led  into  a  blind  court,  or  yard,  profoundly 
dark,  unpaved,  and  reeking  with  stagnant  odors.  Into  this 
ill-favored  pit,  the  locksmith's  vagrant  'prentice  groped  his 
way  ;  and  stopping  at  a  house  from  whose  defaced  and  rotten 
front  the  rude  effigy  of  a  bottle  swung  to  and  fro  like  some 
gibbeted  malefactor,  struck  thrice  upon  an  iron  grating  with 
his  foot.  After  listening  in  vain  for  some  response  to  his 
signal,  Mr.  Tappertit  became  impatient,  and  struck  the 
grating  thrice  again. 

A  further  delay  ensued,  but  it  was  not  of  long  duration 
The  ground  seemed  to  open  at  his  feet,  and  a  ragged  head 

appeared.  -,       ^i     i       i 

"  Is  that  the  captain  ?  "  said  a  voice  as  ragged  as  tlie  head. 
"Yes,"  replied  :\[r.  Tappertit  haughtily,  descending  as  he 

spoke,  "  who  should  it  be  ?  " 

"  It's  so  late,  we  gave  you  up,"  returned  the  voice,  as  its 


eS  BARNABY  BULGE. 

owner  stopped  to  shut  and  fasten  the  grating.  "  You're  late, 
sir." 

"Lead  on,"  said  ]\rr.  Tappertit,  with  a  gloomy  majesty,  ^-and 
make  remarks  when  I  require  you.     Forward  ! " 

This  latter  word  of  command  was  perhaps  somewhat  theat- 
rical and  unnecessary,  inasmuch  as  the  descent  was  by  a  very 
narrow,  steep,  and  slippery  flight  of  steps,  and  any  rashness 
or  departure  from  the  beaten  track  must  have  ended  in  a 
yawning  water-but.  But  Mr.  Tappertit  being,  like  some  other 
great  commanders,  favorable  to  strong  effects,  and  personal 
display,  cried  "Forward ! "  again,  in  the  hoarsest  voice  he  could 
assume  ;  and  led  the  way,  with  folded  arms  and  knitted  brows, 
to  the  cellar  down  below,  where  the^re  was  a  small  copper  fixed 
in  one  corner,  a  chair  or  two,  a  form  and  table,  a  glimmering 
fire,  and  a  truckle-bed,  covered  with  a  ragged  patchwork  rug. 

"  Welcome,  noble  captain ! "  cried  a  lanky  figure,  rising  as 
from  a  nap. 

The  captain  nodded.  Then,  throwing  off  his  outer  coat,  he 
stood  composed  in  all  his  dignity,  and  eyed  his  follower  over. 

"  What  news  to-night  ?  "  he  asked,  when  he  had  looked  into 
his  very  soul. 

"Nothing  particular,"  replied  the  other,  stretching  himself 
—  and  he  was  so  long  already  that  it  was  quite  alarming  to 
see  him  do  it  —  "how  come  you  to  be  so  late  ?  " 

"  lN"o  matter,"  was  all  the  captain  deigned  to  say  in  answer. 
"  Is  the  room  prepared  ?  " 

"It  is,"  replied  his  follower. 

"  The  comrade  —  is  he  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.     And  a  sprinkling  of  the  others  —  j'ou  hear  'em  ?  " 

"  Playing  skittles  ! "  said  the  captain,  moodily.  "  Light- 
hearted  revellers  ! " 

There  was  no  doubt  respecting  the  particular  amusement  in 
which  these  heedless  spirits  were  indulging,  for  even  in  the 
close  and  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  vault,  the  noise  sounded 
like  distant  thunder.  It  certainly  appeared,  at  first  sight,  a 
singular  spot  to  choose,  for  that  or  any  other  purpose  of 
relaxation,  if  the  other  cellars  answered  to  the  one  in  which 
this  brief  colloquy  took  place ;  for  the  floors  were  of  sodden 
earth,  the  walls  and  roof  of  damp  bare  brick  tapestried  with 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  69 

the  tracks  of  snails  and  slugs ;  the  air  was  sickening,  tainted, 
and  offensive.  It  seemed  from  one  strong  flavor  which  was 
uppermost  among  the  various  odors  of  the  place,  that  it  had, 
at  no  very  distant  period,  been  used  as  a  storehouse  for 
cheeses ;  a  circumstance  which,  while  it  accounted  for  the 
greasy  moisture  that  hung  about  it,  was  agreeably  suggestive 
of  rats.  It  was  naturally  damp  besides,  and  little  trees  of 
fungus  sprung  from  every  mouldering  corner. 

The  proprietor  of  this  charming  retreat,  and  owner  of  the 
ragged  head  before  mentioned  —  for  he  wore  an  old  tie-wig  as 
bare  and  frowzy  as  a  stunted  hearth-broom  —  had  by  this  time 
joined  them ;  and  stood  a  little  apart,  rubbing  his  hands,  wag- 
ging his  hoary  bristled  chin,  and  smiling  in  silence.  His  eyes 
were  closed ;  but  had  they  been  wide  open,  it  would  have  been 
easy  to  tell,  from  the  attentive  expression  of  the  face  he  turned 
towards  them  —  pale  and  unwholesome  as  might  be  expected 
in  one  of  his  underground  existence — and  from  a  certain 
anxious  raising  and  quivering  of  the  lids,  that  he  Avas  blind. 

"Even  Stagg  hath  been  asleep,"  said  the  long  comrade, 
nodding  towards  this  person. 

"  Sound,  captain,  sound  !  "  cried  the  blind  man  ;  "  what  does 
my  noble  captain  drink  —  is  it  brandy,  rum,  usquebaugh  ?  Is 
it  soaked  gunpowder,  or  blazing  oil  ?  Give  it  a  name,  heart 
of  oak,  and  we'd  get  it  for  you,  if  it  was  wine  from  a  bishop's 
cellar,  or  melted  gold  from  King  George's  mint." 

"  See,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  haughtily,  "  that  it's  something 
strong,  and  comes  quick ;  and  so  long  as  you  take  care  of  that, 
you  may  bring  it  from  the  devil's  cellar,  if  you  like." 

"Boldly  said,  noble  captain!"  rejoined  the  blind  man. 
"  Spoken  like  the  'Prentices'  Glory.  Ha,  ha !  From  the 
devil's  cellar  !  A  brave  joke  !  The  captain  joketh.  Ha,  ha, 
ha!" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  my  fine  feller,"  said  ]\[r.  Tappertit,  eying 
the  host  over  as  he  walked  to  a  closet,  and  took  out  a  bottle 
and  glass  as  carelessly  as  if  he  had  been  in  full  possession  of 
his  sight,  "if  you  make  that  row,  you'll  hnd  tliat  the  captain's 
very  far  from  joking,  and  so  I  tell  you." 

"He's  got  his  eyes  on  me  ! "  cried  Stagg,  stopping  short  on 
his  way  back,  and  affecting  to  screen  his  face  with  the  bottle. 


70  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

''  I  feel  'ein  though  I  can't  see  'em.  Take  'em  off,  noble 
captain.     Remove  'em,  for  they  pierce  like  gimlets." 

Mr.  Tappertit  smiled  grimly  at  his  comrade ;  and  twisting 
out  one  more  look  —  a  kind  of  ocular  screw  —  under  the  influ- 
ence of  which  the  blind  man  feigned  to  undergo  great  anguish 
and  torture,  bade  him,  in  a  softened  tone,  approach,  and  hold 
his  peace. 

^^I  obey  you,  captain,"  cried  Stagg,  drawing  close  to  him 
and  filling  out  a  bumper  without  spilling  a  drop,  by  reason 
that  he  held  his  little  finger  at  the  brim  of  the  glass,  and 
stopped  at  the  instant  the  liquor  touched  it,  "drink,  noble 
governor.  Death  to  all  masters,  life  to  all  'prentices,  and  love 
to  all  fair  damsels.  Drink,  brave  general,  and  warm  your 
gallant  heairt ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit  condescended  to  take  the  glass  from  his  out- 
stretched hand.  Stagg  then  dropped  on  one  knee  and  gently 
smoothed  the  calves  of  his  legs,  with  an  air  of  humble 
admiration. 

"  That  I  had  but  eyes !  "  he  cried,  "  to  behold  my  captain's 
symmetrical  proportions !  That  I  had  but  eye's,  to  look  upon 
these  twin  invaders  of  domestic  peace  ! " 

"  Get  out !  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  glancing  downward  at  his 
favorite  limbs.     "  Go  along,  will  you  Stagg  !  " 

"  When  I  touch  my  own  afterwards,"  cried  the  host,  smiting 
them  reproachfully,  "I  hate  'em.  Comparatively  speaking, 
they've  no  more  shape  than  wooden  legs,  beside  these  models 
of  my  noble  captain's." 

"  Yours  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  No,  I  should  think 
not.  Don't  talk  about  those  precious  old  toothpicks  in  the 
same  breath  wdth  mine  ;  that's  rather  too  much.  Here.  Take 
the  glass.     Benjamin,  lead  on.     To  business  !  " 

With  these  words,  he  folded  his  arms  again ;  and  frowning 
with  a  sullen  majesty,  passed  with  his  companion  through  a 
little  door  at  the  upper  end  of  the  cellar,  and  disappeared; 
leaving  Stagg  to  his  private  meditations. 

The  vault  they  entered,  strewn  with  sawdust  and  dimly 
lighted,  was  between  the  outer  one  from  which  they  had  just 
come,  and  that  in  which  the  skittle  players  were  diverting 
themselves;   as  was  manifested  by  the  increased  noise  and 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  71 

clamor  of  tongues,  which  was  suddenly  stopped,  however,  and 
replaced  by  a  dead  silence,  at  a  signal  from  the  long  comrade. 
Then,  this  young  gentleman,  going  to  a  little  cupboard,  returned 
with  a  thigh-bone,  which  in  former  times  must  have  been  part 
and  parcel  of  some  individual  at  least  as  long  as  himself,  and 
placed  the  same  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Tappertit ;  who,  receiving 
it  as  a  sceptre  and  staif  of  authority  cocked  his  three-cornered 
hat  fiercely  on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  mounted  a  large  table, 
whereon  a  chair  of  state,  cheerfully  ornamented  with  a  couple 
of  skulls,  was  placed  ready  for  his  reception. 

He  had  no  sooner  assumed  this  position,  than  another  j^oung 
gentleman  appeared,  bearing  in  his  arms  a  huge  clasped  book, 
who  made  him  a  profound  obeisance,  and  delivering  it  to  the 
long  comrade,  advanced  to  the  table,  and  turning  his  back  upon 
it,  stood  there  Atlas-wise.  Then,  the  long  comrade  got  upon 
the  table  too ;  and  seating  himself  in  a  lower  chair  than  Mr. 
Tappertit's,  with  much  state  and  ceremony,  placed  the  large 
book  on  the  shoulders  of  their  mute  companion  as  deliberately 
as  if  he  had  been  a  wooden  desk,  and  prepared  to  make  entries 
therein  with  a  pen  of  corresponding  size. 

When  the  long  comrade  had  made  these  preparations,  he 
looked  towards  ^h\  Tappertit ;  and  Mr.  Tappertit,  flourishing 
the  bone,  knocked  nine  times  therewith  upon  one  of  the  skulls. 
At  the  ninth  stroke,  a  third  young  gentleman  emerged  from 
the  door  leading  to  the  skittle-ground,  and  bowing  low,  awaited 
his  commands. 

"'Prentice ! "  said  the  mighty  captain,  "who  waits  without  ?  " 

The  'prentice  made  answer  that  a  stranger  was  in  attendance, 
who  claimed  admission  into  that  secret  society  of  'Prentice 
Knights,  and  a  free  participation  in  their  rights,  privileges, 
and  immunities.  Thereupon  Mr.  Tappertit  flourished  the  bone 
again,  and  giving  the  other  skull  a  prodigious  rap  on  the  nose, 
exclaimed  "  Admit  him  !  "  At  these  dread  words  the  'prentice 
bowed  once  more,  and  so  withdrew  as  he  liad  come. 

There  soon  appeared  at  the  same  door,  two  other  'prentices, 
having  between  them  a  third,  whose  eyes  were  bandaged,  and 
who  was  attired  in  a  bag-wig,  and  a  broad-skirted  coat,  trimmed 
with  tarnished  lace ;  and  who  was  girded  with  a  sword,  in 
compliance  with  the  laws  of  the  Institution  regulating  the 


72  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

introduction  of  candidates,  which  required  them  to  assume 
this  courtly  dress,  and  kept  it  constantly  in  lavender,  for  their 
convenience.  One  of  the  conductors  of  this  novice  held  a 
rusty  blunderbuss  pointed  towards  his  ear,  and  the  other  a  very 
ancient  sabre,  with  Avhich  he  carved  imaginary  offenders  as  he 
came  along  iu  a  sanguinary  and  anatomical  manner. 

As  this  silent  group  advanced,  Mr.  Tappertit  fixed  his  hat 
upon  his  head.  The  novice  then  laid  his  hand  upon  his  breast 
and  bent  before  him.  When  he  had  humbled  himself  suffi- 
ciently, the  captain  ordered  the  bandage  to  be  removed,  and 
proceeded  to  eye  him  over. 

"Ha!  "said  the  captain,  thoughtfully,  when  he  had  con- 
cluded this  ordeal.     "  Proceed." 

The  long  comrade  read  aloud  as  follows  :  —  "  Mark  Gilbert. 
Age,  nineteen.  Bound  to  Thomas  Curzon,  hosier.  Golden 
Fleece,  Aldgate.  Loves  Curzon's  daughter.  Cannot  say 
that  Curzon's  daughter  loves  him.  Should  think  it  probable. 
Curzon  pulled  his  ears  last  Tuesday  week." 

"  How  ?  "  cried  the  captain,  starting. 

^^For  looking  at  his  daughter,  please  you,"  said  the  novice. 

"  Write  Curzon  down.  Denounced,"  said  the  captain.  "  Put 
a  black  cross  against  the  name  of  Curzon." 

"  So  please  you,"  said  the  novice,  "  that's  not  the  worst  — 
he  calls  his  'prentice  idle  dog,  and  stops  his  beer  unless  he 
works  to  his  liking.  He  gives  Dutch  cheese,  too,  eating 
Cheshire,  sir,  himself;  and  Sundays  5tit,  are  only  once  a 
month." 

"  This,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  gravely,  "  is  a  flagrant  case. 
Put  two  black  crosses  to  the  name  of  Curzon." 

"  If  the  society,"  said  the  novice,  who  was  an  ill-looking, 
one-sided,  shambling  lad,  with  sunken  eyes  set  close  together 
in  his  head  —  "  if  the  society  would  burn  his  house  down  —  for 
he's  not  insured  —  or  beat  him  as  he  comes  home  from  his 
club  at  night,  or  help  me  to  carry  off  his  daughter,  and  marry 
her  at  the  Fleet,  whether  she  gave  consent  or  no  "  — 

Mr,  Tappertit  waved  his  grizzly  truncheon  as  an  admonition 
to  him  not  to  interrupt,  and  ordered  three  black  crosses  to  the 
name  of  Curzon. 

"  Which  means,"  he   said   in   gracious  explanation,  "  ven- 


BARN  A  BY  BUDGE.  73 

geance,  complete  and  terrible.  'Prentice,  do  you  love  the 
Constitution  ?  " 

To  which  the  novice  (being  to  that  end  instructed  by  his 
attendant  sponsors)  replied,  "I  do  !  " 

"  The  Church,  the  State,  and  everything  established  —  but 
the  masters  ?  "  quoth  the  captain. 

Again  the  novice  said,  "  I  do." 

Having  said  it,  he  listened  meekly  to  the  captain,  who,  in 
an  address  prepared  for  such  occasions,  told  him  how  that 
under  that  same  Constitution  (which  was  kept  in  a  strong 
box  somewhere,  but  where  exactly  he  could  not  find  out,  or 
he  would  have  endeavored  to  procure  a  copy  of  it),  the 
'prentices  had,  in  times  gone  by,  had  frequent  holidays  of 
right,  broken  people's  heads  by  scores,  defied  their  masters, 
nay,  even  achieved  some  glorious  murders  in  the  streets, 
which  privileges  had  gradually  been  wrested  from  them,  and 
in  all  which  noble  aspirations  they  were  now  restrained  ;  how 
the  degrading  checks  imposed  upon  them  were  unquestionably 
attributable  to  the  innovating  spirit  of  the  times,  and  how 
they  united  therefore  to  resist  all  change,  except  such  change 
as  would  restore  those  good  old  English  customs,  by  which 
they  would  stand  or  fall.  After  illustrating  the  wisdom  of 
going  backward,  by  reference  to  that  sagacious  fish,  the  crab, 
and  the  not  unfrequent  practice  of  the  mule  and  donke}^,  he 
described  their  general  objects;  which  were  briefly  vengeance 
on  their  Tyrant  Masters  (of  whose  grievous  and  insupportable 
oppression  no  'prentice  could  entertain  a  moment's  doubt)  and 
the  restoration,  as  aforesaid,  of  their  ancient  rights  and 
holidays ;  for  neither  of  which  objects  were  they  now  quite 
ripe,  being  barely  twenty  strong,  but  which  they  pledged 
themselves  to  pursue  with  fire  and  sword  when  needful. 
Then  he  described  the  oath  which  every  member  of  that  small 
remnant  of  a  noble  body  took,  and  which  was  of  a  dreadful 
and  impressive  kind ;  binding»him  at  the  bidding  of  his  chief, 
to  resist  and  obstruct  the  Lo^d  jVIayor,  sword-bearer,  and 
chaplain  ;  to  despise  the  authority  of  the  sheriffs  ;  and  to  hold 
the  court  of  aldermen  as  naught ;  but  not  on  any  account,  in 
case  the  fulness  of  time  should  bring  a  general  rising  of 
'prentices,  to  damage   or  in  any  way  disfigure  Temple  l^ar, 


74  BABNABY  BULGE. 

which  was  strictlj^  constitutional  and  always  to  be  approached 
with  reverence.  Having  gone  over  these  several  heads  with 
great  eloquence  and  force,  and  having  further  informed  the 
novice  that  this  society  had  had  its  origin  in  his  own  teeming 
brain,  stimulated  by  a  swelling  sense  of  wrong  and  outrage, 
Mr.  Tappertit  demanded  whether  he  had  strength  of  heart  to 
take  the  mighty  pledge  required,  or  whether  he  would  with- 
draw while  retreat  was  yet  within  his  power. 

To  this,  the  novice  made  rejoinder  that  he  would  take  the 
vow,  though  it  should  choke  him ;  and  it  was  accordingly  ad- 
ministered with  many  impressive  circumstances,  among  which 
the  lighting  up  of  the  two  skulls  with  a  candle-end  inside  of 
each,  and  a  great  many  flourishes  with  the  bone,  were  chiefly 
conspicuous ;  not  to  mention  a  variety  of  grave  exercises  with 
the  blunderbuss  and  sabre,  and  some  dismal  groaning  by  un- 
seen 'prentices  without.  All  these  dark  and  direful  cere- 
monies being  at  length  completed,  the  table  was  put  aside, 
the  chair  of  state  removed,  the  sceptre  locked  up  in  its  usual 
cupboard,  the  doors  of  communication  between  the  three 
cellars  thrown  freely  open,  and  the  'Prentice  Knights  resigned 
themselves  to  merriment. 

But  ]\[r.  Tappertit,  who  had  a  soul  above  the  vulgar  herd, 
and  who,  on  account  of  his  greatness,  could  only  afford  to  be 
merry  now  and  then,  threw  himself  on  a  bench  with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  was  faint  with  dignity.  He  looked  with  an  in- 
different eye,  alike  on  skittles,  cards,  and  dice,  thinking  only 
of  the  locksmith's  daughter,  and  the  base  degenerate  days  on 
Avhich  he  had  fallen. 

"M}^  noble  captain  neither  games,  nor  sings,  nor  dances," 
said  his  host,  taking  a  seat  beside  him.  "  Drink,  gallant 
general ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit  drained  the  proffered  goblet  to  the  dregs ; 
then  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and  with  a  lowering 
visage  walked  among  the  skittles,  while  his  followers  (such  is 
the  influence  of  superior  genius)  restrained  the  ardent,  ball, 
and  held  his  little  shins  in  dumb  respect. 

"  If  I  had  been  born  a  corsair  or  a  pirate,  a  brigand,  gen- 
teel highwayman  or  patriot  —  and  they're  the  same  thing," 
thought    Mr.    Tappertit,    musing   among    the   nine-pins,    "I 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  75 

should  have  been  all  right.  But  to  drag  out  a  ignoble  exist- 
ence unbeknown  to  mankind  in  general  —  patience  !  I  will  be 
famous  yet.  A  voice  within  me  keeps  on  whispering  Great- 
ness. I  shall  burst  out  one  of  these  days,  and  when  I  do, 
what  power  can  keep  me  down  ?  I  feel  my  soul  getting  into 
my  head  at  the  idea.     Move  drink  there  ! '' 

"  The  novice,"  pursued  Mr.  Tappertit,  not  exactly  in  a 
voice  of  thunder,  for  his  tones,  to  say  the  truth,  were  rather 
cracked  and  shrill, — but  very  impressively,  notwithstanding 
—  "  where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Here,  noble  captain  !  "  cried  Stagg.  "  One  stands  beside 
me  who  I  feel  is  a  stranger." 

"Have  you,"  said  ^Ir.  Tappertit,  letting  his  gaze  fall  on 
the  party  indicated,  who  was  indeed  the  new  knight,  by  this 
time  restored  to  his  own  apparel ;  "  Have  you  the  impression 
of  your  street-door  key  in  wax  ?  " 

The  long  comrade  anticipated  the  reply,  by  producing  it 
from  the  shelf  on  which  it  had  been  deposited. 

"Good,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  scrutinizing  it  attentively, 
while  a  breathless  silence  reigned  around  ;  for  he  had  con- 
structed secret  door-keys  for  the  whole  societ}',  and  perliaps 
owed  something  of  his  influence  to  that  mean  and  trivial  cir- 
cumstance —  on  such  slight  accidents  do  even  men  of  mind 
depend  !  —  "  This  is  easily  made.     Come  hither,  friend." 

With  that,  he  beckoned  the  new  knight  apart,  and  putting 
the  pattern  in  his  pocket,  motioned  to  him  to  walk  by  his 
side. 

"And  so,"  he  said,  when  they  had  taken  a  few  turns  up 
and  down,  "you  —  you  love  your  master's  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  the  'prentice.  "Honor  bright.  Xo  chatf,  you 
know." 

"Have  you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Tappertit,  catching  him  by  the 
wrist,  and  giving  him  a  look  which  would  liave  been  I'Xjtres- 
sive  of  the  most  deadly  malevolence,  but  for  an  accidental  hic- 
cough that  rather  interfered  with  it ;  "  have  you  a  —  a  rival  ?  " 

"  Not  as  I  know  on,"  replied  the  'prentice. 

"K  you  had  now" — said  Mr.  Ta}»i)ertit  —  "what  would 
you  —  eh  ?  "  — 

The  'prentice  looked  licrcc  and  d inched  his  lists. 


76  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"It  is  enough,"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit  hastily,  "we  under- 
stand each  other.     We  are  observed.     I  thank  you." 

So  saying,  he  cast  him  off  again;  and  calling  the  long 
comrade  aside  after  taking  a  few  hasty  turns  by  himself,  bade 
him  immediately  write  and  post  against  the  wall,  a  notice, 
proscribing  one  Joseph  Willet  (commonly  known  as  Joe)  of 
Chigwell ;  forbidding  all  'Prentice  Knights  to  succor,  com- 
fort, or  hold  communion  with  him ;  and  requiring  them,  on 
pain  of  excommunication,  to  molest,  hurt,  wrong,  annoy,  and 
pick  quarrels  with  the  said  Joseph,  whensoever  and  where- 
soever they,  or  any  of  them,  should  happen  to  encounter  him. 

Having  relieved  his  mind  by  this  energetic  proceeding,  he 
condescended  to  approach  the  festive  board,  and  warming  by 
degrees,  at  length  deigned  to  preside,  and  even  to  enchant  the 
company  with  a  song.  After  this  he  rose  to  such  a  pitch  as 
to  consent  to  regale  the  society  with  a  hornpipe,  which  he 
actually  performed  to  the  music  of  a  fiddle  (played  by  an 
ingenious  member),  with  such  surpassing  agility  and  brilliancy 
of  execution,  that  the  spectators  could  not  be  sufficiently 
enthusiastic  in  their  admiration  ;  and  their  host  protested, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he  had  never  truly  felt  his  blind- 
ness until  that  moment. 

But  the  host  withdrawing  —  probably  to  weep  in  secret  — 
soon  returned  with  the  information  that  it  wanted  little  more 
than  an  hour  of  day,  and  that  all  the  cocks  in  Barbican  had 
already  begun  to  crow,  as  if  their  lives  depended  on  it.  At 
this  intelligence,  the  'Prentice  Knights  arose  in  haste,  and 
marshalling  -into  a  line,  filed  off  one  by  one  and  dispersed 
with  all  speed  to  their  several  homes,  leaving  their  leader  to 
pass  the  grating  last. 

"  Good-night,  noble  captain,"  whispered  the  blind  man  as 
he  held  it  open  for  his  passage  out;  "Farewell  brave 
general.  Bye,  bye,  illustrious  commander.  Gook  luck  go 
with  you  for  a  —  conceited,  bragging,  empty-headed,  duck- 
legged  idiot." 

With  which  parting  words,  coolly  added  as  he  listened  to 
his  receding  footsteps  and  locked  the  grate  upon  himself,  he 
descended  the  steps,  and  lighting  the  fire  below  the  little 
copper,  prepared,  without  any  assistance,  for  his  daily  occupa- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  77 

tion ;  which  was  to  retail  at  the  area-head  above  pennyworths 
of  broth  and  soup,  and  savory  puddings,  compounded  of  such 
scraps  as  were  to  be  bought  in  the  heap  for  the  least  money 
at  Fleet  Market  in  the  evening  time ;  and  for  the  sale  of 
which  he  had  need  to  have  depended  chiefly  on  his  private 
connection,  for  the  court  had  no  thoroughfare,  and  was  not 
that  kind  of  place  in  which  many  people  were  likely  to  take 
the  air,  or  to  frequent  as  an  agreeable  promenade. 


78  BABNABT  BUDGE. 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

Chroniclers  are  privileged  to  enter  where  they  list,  to 
come  and  go  through  keyholes,  to  ride  upon  the  wind,  to  over- 
come, in  their  soarings  up  and  down,  all  obstacles  of  distance, 
time,  and  place.  Thrice  blessed  be  this  last  consideration, 
since  it  enables  us  to  follow  the  disdainful  Miggs  even  into 
the  sanctity  of  her  chamber,  and  to  hold  her  in  sweet  com- 
panionship through  the  dreary  watches  of  the  night ! 

Miss  Miggs,  having  undone  her  mistress,  as  she  phrased  it 
(which  means,  assisted  to  undress  her),  and  having  seen  her 
comfortably  to  bed  in  the  back  room  on  the  first  floor,  with- 
drew to  her  own  a^^artment,  in  the  attic  story.  Notwith- 
standing her  declaration  in  the  locksmith's  presence,  she  was 
in  no  mood  for  sleep ;  so,  putting  her  light  upon  the  table 
and  withdrawing  the  little  window  curtain,  she  gazed  out 
pensively  at  the  wild  night  sky. 

Perhaps  she  wondered  what  star  was  destined  for  her 
habitation  when  she  had  run  her  little  course  below  ;  perhaps 
speculated  which  of  those  glimmering  spheres  might  be  the 
natal  orb  of  Mr.  Tappertit ;  perhaps  marvelled  how  they  could 
gaze  down  on  that  perfidious  creature,  man,  and  not  sicken 
and  turn  green  as  chemists'  lamps ;  perhaps  thought  of  nothing 
in  particular.  Whatever  she  thought  about,  there  she  sat, 
until  her  attention,  alive  to  an^'thing  connected  with  the 
insinuating  'prentice,  was  attracted  by  a  noise  in  the  next 
room  to  her  own  —  his  room ;  the  room  in  which  he  slept,  and 
dreamed  —  it  might  be,  sometimes  dreamed  of  her. 

That  he  was  not  dreaming  now,  unless  he  was  taking  a 
walk  in  his  sleep,  was  clear,  for  every  now  and  then  there 
came  a  shuffling  noise,  as  though  he  were  engaged  in  polish- 
ing the  w^hitewashed  wall;  then  a  gentle  creaking  of  his 
door ;  then  the  faintest  indication  of  his  stealthy  footsteps  on 
the  landing-place  outside.     Noting  this  latter  circumstance, 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  79 

Miss  Miggs  turned  pale  and  shuddered,  as  mistrusting  his 
intentions ;  and  more  than  once  exclaimed,  below  her  breath, 
"  Oh  !  what  a  Providence  it  is,  as  I  am  bolted  in  !  "  —  which, 
owing  doubtless  to  her  alarm,  was  a  confusion  of  ideas  on  her 
part  between  a  bolt  and  its  use ;  for  though  there  was  one  on 
the  door,  it  was  not  fastened. 

Miss  Miggs's  sense  of  hearing,  however,  having  as  sharp  an 
edge  as  her  temper,  and  being  of  the  same  snappish  and 
suspicious  kind,  very  soon  informed  her  that  the  footsteps 
passed  her  door,  and  appeared  to  have  some  object  quite 
separate  and  disconnected  from  herself.  At  this  discovery 
she  became  more  alarmed  than  ever,  and  was  about  to  give 
utterance  to  those  cries  of  "  Thieves  ! "  and  '•'  Murder  !  "  which 
she  had  hitherto  restrained,  when  it  occurred  to  her  to  look 
softly  out,  and  see  that  her  fears  had  some  good  palpable 
foundation. 

Looking  out  accordingly,  and  stretching  her  neck  over  tlia^ 
handrail,  she  descried,  to  her  great  amazement,  Mr.  Tappertit 
completely  dressed,  stealing  down^stairs,  one  step  at  a  time, 
with  his  shoes  in  one  hand  and  a  lamp  in  the  other.  Follow- 
ing him  with  her  eyes,  and  going  down  a  little  way  herself  to 
get  the  better  of  an  intervening  angle,  she  beheld  him  thrust 
his  head  in  at  the  parlor  door,  draw  it  back  again  with  great 
swiftness,  and  immediately  begin  a  retreat  up-stairs  with  all 
possible  expedition. 

"  Here's  mysteries  ! "  said  the  damsel,  when  she  was  safe 
in  her  own  room  again,  quite  out  of  breath.  '•  Oh  gracious, 
here's  mysteries ! '' 

The  prospect  of  finding  anybody  out  in  anything,  would 
have  kept  ]\Iiss  IMiggs  awake  under  the  influence  of  henbane. 
Presently,  she  heard  the  step  again,  as  she  would  have  done 
if  it  had  been  that  of  a  feather  endowed  with  motion  and 
walking  down  on  tiptoe.  Then  gliding  out  as  before,  she 
again  belield  the  retreating  figure  of  the 'prentice;  again  lie 
looked  cautiously  in  at  the  parlor  door,  but  this  time,  instead 
of  retreating,  he  passed  in  and  disappeared. 

Miggs  was  back  in  her  room,  and  had  her  head  out  of  the 
window,  before  an  elderly  gentleman  could  have  winked  and 
recovered  from  it.     Out  he  came  at  the  street  door,  shut  it 


80  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

carefully  behind  him,  tried  it  with  his  knee,  and  swaggered 
off,  putting  something  in  his  pocket  as  he  went  along.  At 
this  spectacle  Miggs  cried  "  Gracious ! ''  again,  and  then 
"  Goodness  gracious  !  "  and  then,  "  Goodness  gracious  me  ! " 
and  then,  candle  in  hand,  went  down-stairs  as  he  had  done. 
Coming  to  the  workshop,  she  saw  the  lamp  burning  on  the 
forge,  and  everything  as  Sim  had  left  it. 

"Why  I  wish  I  may  only  have  a  walking  funeral,  and 
never  be  buried  decent  with  a  mourning-coach  and  feathers,  if 
the  boy  hasn"t  been  and  made  a  key  for  his  own  self ! "  cried 
Miggs.     "  Oh  the  little  villain  ! " 

This  conclusion  was  not  arrived  at  without  consideration, 
and  much  peeping  and  peering  about ;  nor  was  it  unassisted 
by  the  recollection  that  she  had  on  several  occasions  come 
upon  the  'prentice  suddenly,  and  found  him  busy  at  some 
mysterious  occupation.  Lest  the  fact  of  Miss  Miggs  calling 
him,  on  whom  she  stooped  to  cast  a  favorable  eye,  a  boy, 
should  create  surprise  in  any  breast,  it  may  be  observed  that 
she  invariably  affected  to  regard  all  male  bipeds  under  thirty 
as  mere  chits  and  infants ;  which  phenomenon  is  not  unusual 
in  ladies  of  Miss  Miggs's  temper,  and  is  indeed  generally 
found  to  be  the  associate  of  such  indomitable  and  savage 
virtue. 

Miss  Miggs  deliberated  within  herself  for  some  little  time, 
looking  hard  at  the  shop  door  while  she  did  so,  as  though  her 
eyes  and  thoughts  were  both  upon  it;  and  then,  taking  a 
sheet  of  paper  from  a  drawer,  twisted  it  into  a  long  thin  spiral 
tube.  Having  filled  this  instrument  with  a  quantity  of  small 
coal  dust  from  the  forge,  she  approached  the  door,  and 
dropping  on  one  knee  before  it,  dexterousty  blew  into  the 
keyhole  as  much  of  these  fine  ashes  as  the  lock  would  hold. 
When  she  had  filled  it  to  the  brim  in  a  very  workmanlike  and 
skilful  manner,  she  crept  up-stairs  again,  and  chuckled  as  she 
went. 

"There!"  cried  Miggs  rubbing  her  hands,  "now  let's  see 
whether  you  won't  be  glad  to  take  some  notice  of  me,  mister. 
He,  he,  he  !  You'll  have  eyes  for  somebody  besides  Miss 
Dolly  now,  I  think.  A  fat-faced  puss  she  is,  as  ever  /  come 
across ! " 


ftii#iiK 


MIGGS    ON    THE    WATCH. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  81 

As  she  uttered  tliis  criticism,  she  glanced  approvingly  at 
her  small  mirror,  as  who  should  say,  I  thank  my  stars  that 
can't  be  said  of  me ;  —  as  it  certainly  could  not ;  for  Miss 
Miggs's  style  of  beauty  was  of  that  kind  which  Mr.  Tappertit 
himself  had  not  inaptly  termed,  in  private,  "  scraggy." 

"  I  don't  go  to  bed  this  night ! "  said  Miggs,  wrapping 
herself  in  a  shawl,  and  drawing  a  couple  of  chairs  near  the 
window,  flouncing  down  upon  one,  and  putting  her  feet  upon 
the  other,  "  till  you  come  home,  my  lad.  I  wouldn't,"  said 
Miggs  viciously,  "  no,  not  for  five  and  forty  pound !  " 

With  that,  and  with  an  expression  of  face  in  which  a  great 
number  of  opposite  ingredients,  such  as  mischief,  cunning, 
malice,  triumph,  and  patient  expectation,  were  all  mixed  up 
together  in  a  kind  of  physiognomical  punch,  Miss  Miggs 
composed  herself  to  Avait  and  listen,  like  some  fair  ogress  who 
had  set  a  trap  and  was  watching  for  a  nibble  from  a  plump 
young  traveller. 

She  sat  there,  with  perfect  composure,  all  night.  At  length, 
just  upon  break  of  day,  there  was  a  footstep  in  the  street,  and 
presently  she  could  hear  Mr.  Tappertit  stop  at  the  door. 
Then  she  could  make  out  that  he  tried  his  key  —  that  he  was 
blowing  into  it  —  that  he  knocked  it  on  the  nearest  post  to 
beat  the  dust  out  —  that  he  took  it  under  a  lamp  to  look  at  it 
—  that  he  poked  bits  of  stick  into  the  lock  to  clear  it  —  that  he 
peeped  into  the  keyhole,  first  with  one  eye,  and  then  with  the 
other  —  that  he  tried  the  key  again  —  that  he  couldn't  turn  it, 
and  what  was  worse  couldn't  get  it  out  —  that  he  bent  it  —  that 
then  it  was  much  less  disposed  to  come  out  than  before  —  that 
he  gave  it  a  mighty  twist  and  a  great  pull,  and  then  it  came 
out  so  suddenly  that  he  staggered  backwards  —  that  he  kicked 
the  door  —  that  he  shook  it  —  finally,  that  he  smote  his  fore- 
head, and  sat  down  on  the  step  in  despair. 

When  this  crisis  had  arrived.  Miss  Miggs,  affecting  to  be 
exhausted  with  terror,  and  to  cling  to  the  window-sill  for 
support,  put  out  her  nightcap,  and  demanded  in  a  faint  voice 
who  was  there. 

Mr.  Tappertit  cried,  "Hush!"  and,  backing  into  the  road, 
exhorted  her  in  frenzied  pantomime  to  secrecy  and  silence. 

"  Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  Miggs.     "  Is  it  thieves  ?  " 

VOL.  I. 


82  •       BABNABT  BUDGE. 

ii's^o  —  no  —  no  I  "  cried  Mr.  Tappertit. 

''Then/'  said  ^liggs,  more  faintly  than  before,  "it's  fire. 
Where  is  it,  sir  ?  It's  near  this  room,  I  know.  I've  a  good 
conscience,  sir,  and  would  much  rather  die  than  go  down  a 
ladder.  All  I  wish  is,  respecting  my  love  to  my  married 
sister,  Golden  Lion  Court,  number  twenty-sivin,  second  bell- 
handle  on  the  right-hand  door-post." 

''Miggs!"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  "don't  you  know  me? 
Sim,  you  know  —  Sim  "  — 

"  Oh !  what  about  him  ! "  cried  Miggs,  clasping  her  hands. 
"Is  he  in  any  danger?  Is  he  in  the  midst  of  flames  and 
blazes  !     Oh,  gracious,  gracious  !  " 

"  Why,  I'm  here,  ain't  I  ?  "  rejoined  Mr.  Tappertit,  knock- 
ing himself  on  the  breast.  "  Don't  you  see  me  ?  What  a 
fool  you  are,  Miggs  !  " 

"  There ! "  cried  Miggs,  unmindful  of  this  compliment. 
"  Why  —  so  it  —  Goodness,  what  is  the  meaning  of  —  If  you 
please  mim  here's  "  — 

"  No,  no ! "  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  standing  on  tiptoe,  as  if 
by  that  means  he,  in  the  street,  were  any  nearer  being  able 
to  stop  the  mouth  of  Miggs  in  the  garret.  "  Don't !  —  I've 
been  out  without  leave,  and  something  or  another's  the  matter 
with  the  lock.  Come  down,  and  undo  the  shop  window,  that 
I  may  get  in  that  way." 

"I  dursn't  do  it,  Simmun,"  cried  Miggs — for  that  was  her 
pronunciation  of  his  Christian  name.  "I  dursn't  do  it,  in- 
deed. You  know  as  well  as  anybody,  how  particular  I  am. 
And  to  come  down  in  the  dead  of  night,  when  the  house  is 
wrapped  in  slumbers  and  weiled  in  obscurity."  And  there 
she  stopped  and  shivered,  for  her  modesty  caught  cold  at  the 
very  thought. 

"  But  Miggs,"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  getting  under  the  lamp, 
that  she  might  see  his  eyes.     "  My  darling  Miggs  "  — 

Miggs  screamed  slightly. 

"  —  That  I  love  so  much,  and  never  can  help  thinking  of," 
and  it  is  impossible  to  describe  the  use  he  made  of  his  eyes 
when  he  said  this  —  "  do  —  for  my  sake,  do." 

"Oh,  Simmun,"  cried  Miggs,  "this  is  worse  than  all,  I 
know  if  I  come  down,  you'll  go,  and  "  — • 


BAUNABY  BULGE.        .  %Z 

"  And  what,  my  precious  ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  And  try/'  said  Miggs,  hysterically,  "  to  kiss  me,  or  some 
such  dreadfulness  ;  I  know  you  will !  " 

"I  swear  I  won't,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  with  remarkable 
earnestness.  "Upon  my  soul,  I  won't.  It's  getting  broad 
day,  and  the  watchman's  waking  up.  Angelic  iVIiggs!  If 
you'll  only  come  and  let  me  in,  I  promise  you  faithfully  and 
truly  I  won't." 

Miss  Miggs,  whose  gentle  heart  was  touched,  did  not  wait 
for  the  oath  (knowing  how  strong  the  temptation  was,  and 
fearing  he  might  forswear  himself),  but  tripped  lightly  down 
the  stairs,  and  with  her  own  fair  hands  drew  back  the  rough 
fastenings  of  the  workshop  window.  Having  helped  the 
wayward  'prentice  in,  she  faintly  articulated  the  words 
"  Simmun  is  safe  ! "  and  yielding  to  her  woman's  nature, 
immediately  became  insensible. 

"I  knew  I  should  quench  her,"  said  Sim,  rather  em- 
barrassed by  this  circumstance.  "  Of  course  I  was  certain  it 
would  come  to  this,  but  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done  — 
if  I  hadn't  eyed  her  over,  she  wouldn't  have  come  down. 
Here.  Keep  up  a  minute,  jNIiggs.  What  a  slippery  figure 
she  is !  There's  no  holding  her,  comfortably.  Do  keep  up  a 
minute,  Miggs,  will  you  ?  " 

As  INIiggs,  however,  was  deaf  to  all  entreaties,  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit leant  her  against  the  wall  as  one  might  dispose  of  a  walk- 
ing-stick or  umbrella,  until  he  had  secured  the  window,  when 
he  took  her  in  his  arms  again,  and,  in  short  stages  and  with 
great  difficulty  —  arising  mainly  from  her  being  tall  and  his 
being  short,  and  perhaps  in  some  degree  from  that  peculiar 
physical  conformation  on  which  he  had  already  remarked  — 
carried  her  up-stairs,  and  j)lanting  her  in  the  same  umbrella 
or  walking-stick  fashion,  just  inside  her  own  door,  left  her  to 
her  repose. 

"He  may  be  as  cool  as  he  likes,"  said  i\riss  IMiggs,  re- 
covering as  soon  as  she  was  left  alone;  "but  I'm  in  his  con- 
fidence and  he  can't  lielp  himself,  nor  couldn't  if  he  was 
twenty  Simmunses  ! " 


84  BABNABT  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   X. 

It  was  on  one  of  those  mornings,  common  in  early  spring, 
when  the  year,  fickle  and  changeable  in  its  youth,  like  all 
other  created  things,  is  undecided  whether  to  step  backward 
into  winter  or  forward  into  summer,  and  in  its  uncertainty 
inclines  now  to  the  one  and  now  to  the  other,  and  now  to 
both  at  once  —  wooing  summer  in  the  sunshine,  and  lingering 
still  with  winter  in  the  shade  —  it  was,  in  short,  on  one  of 
those  mornings,  when  it  is  hot  and  cold,  wet  and  dry,  bright 
and  lowering,  sad  and  cheerful,  withering  and  genial,  in  the 
compass  of  one  short  hour,  that  old  John  Willet,  who  was 
dropping  asleep  over  the  copper  boiler,  Avas  roused  by  the 
sound  of  a  horse's  feet,  and  glancing  out  at  window,  beheld 
a  traveller  of  goodly  promise  checking  his  bridle  at  the  May- 
pole door. 

He  was  none  of  your  flippant  youDg  fellows,  who  would 
call  for  a  tankard  of  mulled  ale,  and  make  themselves  as 
much  at  home  as  if  they  had  ordered  a  hogshead  of  wine ; 
none  of  your  audacious  young  swaggerers,  who  would  even 
penetrate  into  the  bar  — that  solemn  sanctuary  —  and,  smiting 
old  John  upon  the  back,  inquire  if  there  was  never  a  pretty 
girl  in  the  house,  and  where  he  hid  his  little  chambermaids, 
with  a  hundred  other  impertinencies  of  that  nature ;  none  of 
your  free-and-easy  companions,  who  would  scrape  their  boots 
upon  the  fire-dogs  in  the  common  room,  and  be  not  at  all 
particular  on  the  subject  of  spittoons  ;  none  of  your  un- 
conscionable blades,  requiring  impossible  chops,  and  taking 
unheard-of  pickles  for  granted.  He  was  a  staid,  grave, 
placid  gentleman,  something  past  the  prime  of  life,  yet  up- 
right in  his  carriage,  for  all  that,  and  slim  as  a  greyhound, 
He  was  well  mounted  upon  a  sturdy  chestnut  cob,  and  had 
the  graceful  seat  of  an  experienced  horseman ;  while  his 
riding-gear,  though  free  from  such  fopperies  as   were  then 


BARNABT  RUDGE.  85 

in  vogue,  was  handsome  and  well  chosen.  He  wore  a  riding- 
coat  of  a  somewhat  brighter  green  than  might  have  been 
expected  to  suit  the  taste  of  a  gentleman  of  his  years,  with  a 
short  black  velvet  cape,  and  laced  pocket-holes  and  cuffs,  all 
of  a  jaunty  fashion ;  his  linen,  too,  was  of  the  finest  kind, 
worked  in  a  rich  pattern  at  the  wrists  and  throat,  and  scrupu- 
lously white.  Although  he  seemed,  judging  from  the  mud  he 
had  picked  up  on  the  way,  to  have  come  from  London,  his 
horse  was  as  smooth  and  cool  as  his  own  iron-gray  periwig 
and  pig-tail.  Neither  man  nor  beast  had  turned  a  single  hair  ; 
and,  saving  for  his  soiled  skirts  and  spatterdashes,  this  gen- 
tleman with  his  blooming  face,  Avhite  teeth,  exactly  ordered 
dress,  and  perfect  calmness,  might  have  come  from  making 
an  elaborate  and  leisurely  toilet,  to  sit  for  an  equestrian 
portrait  at  old  John  Willet's  gate. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  John  observed  these  several 
characteristics  by  other  than  very  slow  degrees,  or  that  he 
took  in  more  than  half  a  one  at  a  time,  or  that  he  even  made 
up  his  mind  upon  that,  without  a  great  deal  of  very  serious 
consideration.  Indeed,  if  he  had  been  distracted  in  the  first 
instance  by  questionings  and  orders,  it  would  have  taken  him 
at  the  least  a  fortnight  to  have  noted  what  is  here  set  down  ; 
but  it  happened  that  the  gentleman,  being  struck  with  the  old 
house,  or  with  the  plump  pigeons  which  were  skimming  and 
courtesying  about  it,  or  with  the  tall  maypole,  on  the  top  of 
which  a  weathercock,  which  had  been  out  of  order  for  fifteen 
years,  performed  a  perpetual  walk  to  the  music  of  its  own 
creaking,  sat  for  some  little  time  looking  round  in  silence. 
Hence  John,  standing  with  his  hand  upon  the  horse's  bridle, 
and  his  great  eyes  on  the  rider,  and  with  nothing  passing  to 
divert  his  thoughts,  had  really  got  some  of  these  little  circum- 
stances into  his  brain,  by  the  time  he  was  called  upon  to 
speak. 

"A  quaint  place  this,"  said  the  gentleman  —  and  his  voice 
was  as  rich  as  liis  dress.     "  Are  you  the  landlord  ?  " 

"  At  your  service,  sir,"  replied  Jolin  Willet. 

"  You  can  give  my  horse  good  stabling,  can  you,  and  me 
an  early  dinner  (I  am  not  particular  what,  so  that  it  be 
cleanly  served),  and  a  decent  room  — of  which  there  seems  to 


86  BATtNABY  RUDGR 

be  no  lack  in  this  great  mansion,"  said  the  stranger,  again 
running  his  eyes  over  the  exterior. 

"  You  can  have,  sir,"  returned  John,  with  a  readiness  quite 
surprising,  "  anything  you  please." 

"  It's  well  I  am  easily  satisfied,"  returned  the  other  with  a 
smile,  '^or  that  might  prove  a  hardy  pledge,  my  friend." 
And  saying  so,  he  dismounted,  with  the  aid  of  the  block  before 
the  door,  in  a  twinkling. 

"  Halloa  there  !  Hugh ! "  roared  John.  "  I  ask  your 
pardon,  sir,  for  keeping  you  standing  in  the  porch ;  but  my 
son  has  gone  to  town  on  business,  and  the  boy  being,  as  I 
may  say,  of  a  kind  of  use  to  me,  I'm  rather  put  out  when 
he's  away.  Hugh  !  — a  dreadful  idle  vagrant  fellow,  sir  —  half 
a  gypsy,  as  I  think  —  always  sleeping  in  the  sun  in  summer, 
and  in  the  straw  in  winter-time,  sir  —  Hugh  !  Dear  Lord,  to 
keep  a  gentleman  a-waiting  here,  through  him  !  —  Hugh  !  I 
wish  that  chap  was  dead,  I  do  indeed." 

"  Possibly  he  is,"  returned  the  other.  "  I  should  think  if 
he  were  living,  he  would  have  heard  you  by  this  time." 

"  In  his  fits  of  laziness,  he  sleeps  so  desperate  hard,"  said 
the  distracted  host,  "  that  if  you  were  to  fire  off  cannon-balls 
into  his  ears,  it  wouldn't  wake  him,  sir." 

The  guest  made  no  remark  upon  this  novel  cure  for  drowsi- 
ness, and  recipe  for  making  people  lively,  but  with  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him,  stood  in  the  porch,  apparently  very  much 
amused  to  see  old  John,  with  the  bridle  in  his  hand,  waver- 
ing between  a  strong  impulse  to  abandon  the  animal  to  his 
fate,  and  a  half  disposition  to  lead  him  into  the  house,  and 
shut  him  up  in  the  parlor,  while  he  waited  on  his  master. 

"  Pillory  the  fellow,  here  he  is  at  last ! "  cried  John  in  the 
very  height  and  zenith  of  his  distress.  "Did  you  hear  me 
a-calling,  villain  ?  " 

The  figure  he  addressed  made  no  answer,  but  putting  his 
hand  upon  the  saddle,  sprung  into  it  at  a  bound,  turned  the 
horse's  head  towards  the  stable,  and  was  gone  in  an  instant. 

"Brisk  enough  when  he  is  awake,"  said  the  guest. 

"  Brisk  enough,  sir !  "  replied  John,  looking  at  the  place 
where  the  horse  had  been,  as  if  not  yet  understanding  quite, 
what  had  become  of  him.    "  He  melts,  I  think.     He  goes  like  a 


prmA^T^ 


^^ 


BARXABT  BUDGE.  87 

drop  of  froth.  You  look  at  him  and  tliere  he  is.  You  look 
at  him  again,  and  —  there  he  isn't." 

Having,  in  the  absence  of  any  more  words,  put  this  sudden 
climax  to  what  he  had  faintly  intended  should  be  a  long 
explanation  of  the  whole  life  and  character  of  his  man,  the 
oracular  John  Willet  led  the  gentleman  up  his  wide  dismantled 
staircase  into  the  Maypole's  best  apartment. 

It  was  spacious  enough  in  all  conscience,  occupying  the 
whole  depth  of  the  house,  and  having  at  either  end  a  great 
bay  window,  as  large  as  many  modern  rooms  ;  in  which  some 
few  panes  of  stained  glass,  emblazoned  with  fragments  of 
armorial  bearings,  though  cracked,  and  patched,  and  shattered, 
yet  remained ;  attesting,  by  their  preseuQ^,  that  the  former 
owner  had  made  the  very  light  subservient  to  his-  state,  and 
pressed  the  sun  itself  into  his  list  of  flatterers ;  bidding  it, 
when  it  shone  into  his  chamber,  reflect  the  badges  of  his  ancient 
family,  and  take  new  hues  and  colors  from  their  pride. 

But  those  were  old  days,  and  now  every  little  ray  came  and 
went  as  it  would ;  telling  the  jD^ain,  bare,  searching  truth. 
Although  the  best  room  of  the  inn,  it  had  the  melancholy 
aspect  of  grandeur  in  decay,  and  was  much  too  vast  for  com- 
fort. Rich  rustling  hangings,  waving  on  the  walls;  and, 
better  far,  the  rustling  of  youth  and  beauty's  dress  ;  the  light 
of  women's  eyes,  outshining  the  tapers  and  their  own  rich 
jewels  ;  the  sound  of  gentle  tongues,  and  music,  and  the  tread 
of  maiden  feet,  had  once  been  there,  and  tilled  it  with  delight. 
But  they  were  gone,  and  with  them  all  its  gladness.  It  was 
no  longer  a  home ;  children  were  never  born  and  bred  there  ; 
the  fireside  had  become  mercenary  —  a  something  to  be  bought 
and  sold  —  a  very  courtesan:  let  who  would  die,  or  sit  beside, 
or  leave  it,  it  was  still  the  same  —  it  missed  nobody,  cared 
for  nobody,  had  equal  warmth  and  smiles  for  all.  God  lielp 
the  man  whose  heart  ever  changes  with  tlie  world,  as  an  old 
mansion  when  it  becomes  an  inn ! 

No  effort  had  been  made  to  furnish  this  chilly  waste,  but 
before  the  broad  chimney  a  colony  of  chairs  and  tables  had 
been  planted  on  a  square  of  carpet,  flanked  by  a  ghostly 
screen,  enriched  with  Hgnres.  grinning  and  grotesque.  After 
lighting  with   his  own  hands  the  fagots  which  were  heaped 


88  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

upon  the  hearth,  old  John  withdrew  to  hold  grave  council 
with  his  cook,  touching  the  stranger's  entertainment ;  while 
the  guest  himself,  seeing  small  comfort  in  the  yet  unkindled 
wood,  opened  a  lattice  in  the  distant  window,  and  basked  in  a 
sickly  gleam  of  cold  March  sun. 

Leaving  the  window  now  and  then,  to  rake  the  crackling 
logs  together,  or  pace  the  echoing  room  from  end  to  end,  he 
closed  it  when  the  fire  was  quite  burnt  up,  and  having  wheeled 
the  easiest  chair  into  the  warmest  corner,  summoned  John 
Willet. 

"  Sir,"  said  John. 

He  wanted  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  There  was  an  old  standish 
on  the  high  mantel-shelf  containing  a  dusty  apology  for  all 
three.  Having  set  this  before  him,  the  landlord  was  retiring, 
when  he  motioned  him  to  stay. 

"There's  a  house  not  far  from  here,"  said  the  guest  when 
he  had  written  a  few  lines,  '•'  which  you  call  the  Warren,  I 
believe  ?  " 

As  this  was  said  in  the  tone  of  one  who  knew  the  fact,  and 
asked  the  question  as  a  thing  of  course,  John  contented  him- 
self with  nodding  his  head  in  the  affirmative ;  at  the  same 
time  taking  one  hand  out  of  his  pockets  to  cough  behind,  and 
then  putting  it  in  again. 

"  I  Avant  this  note  "  —  said  the  guest,  glancing  on  what  he 
had  written,  and  folding  it,  "  conveyed  there  without  loss  of 
time,  and  an  answer  brought  back  here.  Have  you  a  mes- 
senger at  hand  ?  " 

John  was  thoughtful  for  a  minute  or  thereabouts,  and  then 
said  Yes. 

"  Let  me  see  him,"  said  the  guest. 

This  was  disconcerting;  for  Joe  being  out,  and  Hugh 
engaged  in  rubbing  down  the  chestnut  cob,  he  designed 
sending  on  the  errand,  Barnaby,  who  had  just  then  arrived 
in  one  of  his  rambles,  and  who,  so  that  he  thought  him- 
self employed  on  grave  and  serious  business,  would  go  any- 
where. 

"  Why,  the  truth  is,"  said  John  after  a  long  pause,  "  that 
the  person  who'd  go  quickest,  is  a  sort  of  natural,  as  one  may 
say,  sir ;  and  though  quick  of  foot,  and  as  much  to  be  trusted 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  89 

as  the  post  itself,  he's  not  good  at  talking,  being  touched  and 
flighty,  sir.'' 

"  You  don't,"  said  the  guest,  raising  his  eyes  to  John's  fat 
face,  *^you  don't  mean  —  what's  the  fellow's  name  —  you 
don't  mean  Barnaby  ?  " 

"Yes  I  do,"  returned  the  landlord,  his  features  turning 
quite  expressive  with  surprise. 

"  How  comes  he  to  be  here  ?  "  inquired  the  guest,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair ;  speaking  in  the  bland,  even  tone,  from 
which  he  never  varied ;  and  with  the  same  soft,  courteous, 
never-changing  smile  upon  his  face.  "  I  saw  him  in  London 
last  night." 

"  He's,  forever,  here  one  hour,  and  there  the  next,"  returned 
old  John,  after  the  usual  pause  to  get  the  question  in  his 
mind.  "  Sometimes  he  walks,  and  sometimes  runs.  He's 
known  along  the  road  by  everybody,  and  sometimes  comes 
here  in  a  cart  or  chaise,  and  sometimes  riding  double.  He 
comes  and  goes,  through  wind,  rain,  snow,  and  hail,  and  on  the 
darkest  nights.     Nothing  hurts  Az??i." 

"  He  goes  often  to  this  Warren,  does  he  not  ? "  said  the 
guest  carelessly.  "I  seem  to  remember  his  mother  telling 
me  something  to  that  effect  yesterday.  But  I  was  not  attend- 
ing to  the  good  woman  much." 

"  You're  right,  sir,"  John  made  answer,  "  he  does.  His 
father,  sir,  was  murdered  in  that  house." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  returned  the  guest,  taking  a  gold  tooth- 
pick from  his  pocket  with  the  same  sweet  smile.  "■  A  very 
disagreeable  circumstance  for  the  family." 

"  Very,"  said  John,  with  a  puzzled  look,  as  if  it  occurred  to 
l^im,  dimly  and  afar  off,  that  this  might  by  possibility  be  a 
cool  way  of  treating  the  subject. 

"All  the  circumstances  after  a  murder,"  said  the  guest 
soliloquizing,  "must  be  dreadfully  unpleasant  —  so  much  bustle 
and  disturbance  —  no  repose  —  a  constant  dwelling  upon  one 
subject  —  and  the  running  in  and  out,  and  up  and  down  stairs, 
intolerable.  I  wouldn't  liave  such  a  thing  happen  to  anybody 
I  was  nearly  interested  in,  on  any  account.  'Twould  bo 
enough  to  wear  one's  life  out. — You  were  going  to  say, 
friend"  —  he  added,  turning  to  John  again. 


90  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

"  Only  that  Mrs.  Riidge  lives  on  a  little  pension  from  the 
family,  and  that  Barnaby's  as  free  of  the  house  as  any  cat  or 
dog  about  it,"  answered  John.  "Shall  he  do  your  errand, 
sir  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  replied  the  guest.  "  Oh  certainly.  Let  him  do  it 
by  all  means.  Please  to  bring  him  here  that  I  may  charge 
him  to  be  quick.  If  he  objects  to  come  you  may  tell  him  it's 
Mr.  Chester.     He  will  remember  my  name  I  dare  say." 

John  was  so  very  much  astonished  to  find  who  his  visitor 
was,  that  he  could  express  no  astonishment  at  all,  by  looks 
or  otherwise,  but  left  the  room  as  if  he  were  in  the  most 
placid  and  imperturbable  of  all  possible  conditions.  It  has 
been  reported  that  when  he  got  down-stairs,  he  looked  steadily 
at  the  boiler  for  ten  minutes  by  the  clock,  and  all  that  time 
never  once  left  off  shaking  his  head;  for  which  statement 
there  would  seem  to  be  some  ground  of  truth  and  feasibility, 
inasmuch  as  that  interval  of  time  did  certainly  elapse,  before 
he  returned  with  Barnaby  to  the  guest's  apartment. 

"  Come  hither,  lad,"  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  You  know  Mr. 
Geoffrey  Haredale?" 

Barnaby  laughed,  and  looked  at  the  landlord  as  though  he 
would  say,  ''  You  hear  him  ? "  John,  who  was  greatly 
shocked  at  this  breach  of  decorum,  clapped  his  finger  to  his 
nose,  and  shook  his  head  in  mute  remonstrance. 

"He-  knOws  him,  sir,"  said  John,  frowning  aside  at 
Barnaby,  "as  well  as  you  or  I  do." 

"  I  haven't  the  pleasure  of  much  acquaintance  with  the 
gentleman,"  returned  his  guest.  "  You  may  have.  Limit 
the  comparison  to  yourself,  my  friend." 

Although  this  was  said  with  the  same  easy  affability,  and 
the  same  smile,  John  felt  himself  put  down,  and  laying  the 
indignity  at  Barnaby's  door,  determined  to  kick  his  raven,  on 
the  very  first  opportunity. 

"  Give  that,"  said  the  guest,  who  had  by  this  time  sealed 
the  note  and  who  beckoned  his  messenger  towards  him  as  he 
spoke,  "  into  Mr.  Haredale's  own  hands.  Wait  for  an  answer, 
and  bring  it  back  to  me  —  here.  If  you  should  find  that  Mr. 
Haredale  is  engarg'ed  just  now,  tell  him  —  can  he  remember  a 
message,  landlord  ?  " 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  91 

"When  he  chooses,  sir,"  replied  John.  "He  won't  forget 
this  one." 

"  How  are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

John  merely  pointed  to  him  as  he  stood  with  his  head  bent 
forward,  and  his  earnest  gaze  fixed  closely  on  his  questioner's 
face  ;  and  nodded  sagely. 

"Tell  him  then,  Barnaby,  should  he  be  engaged,"  said 
Mr.  Chester,  "  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  wait  his  convenience 
here,  and  to  see  him  (if  he  will  call)  at  any  time  this  evening. 
—  At  the  worst  I  can  have  a  bed  here,  Willet,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Old  John,  immensely  flattered  by  the  personal  notoriety 
implied  in  this  familiar  form  of  address,  answered,  with  some- 
thing like  a  knowing  look,  "  1  should  believe  you  could,  sir," 
and  was  turning  over  in  his  mind  various  forms  of  eulogium, 
with  the  view  of  selecting  one  appropriate  to  the  qualities  of 
his  best  bed,  when  his  ideas  were  put  to  flight  by  !Mr.  Chester 
giving  Barnaby  the  letter,  and  bidding  him  make  all  speed 
away. 

"  Speed ! "  said  Barnaby,  folding  the  little  packet  in  his 
breast,  "  Speed  !  If  you  want  to  see  hurry  and  mystery,  come 
here.     Here ! " 

With  that,  he  put  his  hand,  very  much  to  John  Willet's 
horror,  on  the  guest's  fine  broadcloth  sleeve,  and  led  him 
stealthily  to  the  back  window. 

"  Look  down  there,"  he  said  softly ;  "  Do  you  mark  how 
they  whisper  in  each  other's  ears ;  then  dance  and  leap,  to 
make  believe  they  are  in  sport  ?  Do  you  see  how  they  stop 
for  a  moment,  when  they  think  there  is  no  one  looking,  and 
mutter  among  themselves  again  ;  and  then  how  they  roll  and 
gambol,  delighted  with  the  mischief  they've  been  plotting  ? 
Look  at  'em  now.  See  how  they  whirl  and  plunge.  And  now 
they  stop  again,  and  whisper  cautiously  together  —  little 
thinking,  mind,  how  often  I  have  lain  upon  the  grass  and 
watched  them.  I  say  —  what  is  it  that  they  plot  and  hatch  ? 
Do  you  know  ?  " 

"  They  are  only  clothes,"  returned  the  guest,  "  such  as  we 
wear ;  hanging  on  those  lines  to  dry,  and  fluttering  in  the 
wind." 

"  Clothes  ! "  echoed  Barnaby,  looking  close   into  his  face. 


92  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

and  falling  quickly  back.  "  Ha  ha  !  Why,  how  much  better 
to  be  silly,  than  as  wise  as  you !  You  don't  see  shadowy 
people  there,  like  those  that  live  in  sleep  —  not  you.  Nor  eyes 
in  the  knotted  panes  of  glass,  nor  swift  ghosts  when  it  blows 
hard,  nor  do  you  hear  voices  in  the  air,  nor  see  men  stalking 
in  the  sky  —  not  you  !  I  lead  a  merrier  life  than  you,  with 
all  your  cleverness.  You're  the  dull  men.  We're  the  bright 
ones.  Ha  !  ha  !  I'll  not  change  with  jou,  clever  as  you  are, 
—  not  I !  " 

With  that,  he  waved  his  hat  above  his  head,  and  darted  off. 

"  A  strange  creature,  upon  my  word ! "  said  the  guest, 
pulling  out  a  handsome  box,  and  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff. 

"  He  wants  imagination,"  said  IMr.  Willet,  very  slowly  and 
after  a  long  silence  ;  "  that's  what  he  wants.  I've  tried  to 
instil  it  into  him,  many  and  many's  the  time  ;  but "  —  John 
added  this,  in  confidence  —  "  he  ain't  made  for  it ;  that's  the 
fact." 

To  record  that  Mr.  Chester  smiled  at  John's  remark  would 
be  little  to  the  purpose,  for  he  preserved  the  same  conciliatory 
and  pleasant  look  at  all  times.  He  drew  his  chair  nearer  to 
the  fire  though,  as  a  kind  of  hint  that  he  would  prefer  to  be 
alone,  and  John,  having  no  reasonable  excuse  for  remaining, 
left  him  to  himself. 

Very  thoughtful  old  John  Willet  was,  while  the  dinner  was 
preparing ;  and  if  his  brain  were  ever  less  clear  at  one  time 
than  another,  it  is  but  reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  addled 
it  in  no  slight  degree  by  shaking  his  head  so  much  that  day. 
That  Mr.  Chester,  between  whom  and  Mr.  Haredale,  it  was 
notorious  to  all  the  neighborhood,  a  deep  and  bitter  animosity 
existed,  should  come  down  there  for  the  sole  purpose,  as  it 
seemed,  of  seeing  him,  and  should  choose  the  Maypole  for 
their  place  of  meeting,  and  should  send  to  him  express,  were 
stumbling-blocks  John  could  not  overcome.  The  only  resource 
he  had,  was  to  consult  the  boiler,  and  wait  impatiently  for 
Barnaby's  return. 

But  Barnaby  delayed  beyond  all  precedent.  The  visitor's 
dinner  was  served,  removed,  his  wine  was  set,  the  fire 
replenished,  the  hearth  clean  swept ;  the  light  waned  without, 
it   grew   dusk,   became   quite    dark,   and    still   no    Barnaby 


BAB  NAB  Y  BUDGE.  93 

appeared.  Yet,  though  John  Willet  was  full  of  wonder  and 
misgiving,  his  guest  sat  cross-legged  in  the  easy-chair,  to  all 
appearance  as  little  ruffled  in  his  thoughts  as  in  his  dress  — 
the  same  calm,  easy,  cool,  gentleman,  without  a  care  or 
thought  beyond  his  golden  toothpick. 

"  Barnaby's  late,"  John  ventured  to  observe,  as  he  placed 
a  pair  of  tarnished  candlesticks,  some  three  feet  high,  upon 
the  table,  and  snuffed  the  lights  they  held. 

"  He  is  rather  so,"  replied  the  guest,  sipping  his  wine.  "  He 
will  not  be  much  longer,  I  dare  say." 

John  coughed,  and  raked  the  fire  together. 

"As  your  roads  bear  no  very  good  character,  if  I  may  judge 
from  my  son's  mishap,  though,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "and  as  I 
have  no  fancy  to  be  knocked  on  the  head  —  which  is  not  only 
disconcerting  at  the  moment,  but  places  one,  besides,  in  a 
ridiculous  position  with  respect  to  the  people  who  chance  to 
pick  one  up  —  I  shall  stop  here  to-night.  I  think  you  said 
you  had  a  bed  to  spare." 

"  Such  a  bed,  sir,"  returned  John  AYillet ;  "  ay,  such  a  bed 
as  few,  even  of  the  gentry's  houses,  own.  A  fixter  here,  sir. 
I've  heard  say  that  bedstead  is  nigh  two  hundred  years  of  age. 
Your  noble  son  —  a  fine  young  gentleman  —  slept  in  it  last, 
sir,  half  a  year  ago." 

"  Upon  my  life,  a  recommendation ! "  said  the  guest, 
shrugging  his  shoulders  and  wheeling  his  chair  nearer  to  the 
fire.  "  See  that  it  be  well  aired,  Mr.  Willet,  and  let  a  blazing 
fire  be  lighted  there  at  once.  This  house  is  something  damp 
and  chilly." 

John  raked  the  fagots  up  again,  more  from  habit  than 
presence  of  mind,  or  any  reference  to  this  remark,  and  was 
about  to  withdraw,  when  a  bounding  step  was  heard  upon  the 
stair,  and  Barnaby  came  panting  in. 

"  He'll  have  his  foot  in  the  stirrup  in  an  hour's  time,"  he 
cried,  advancing.  "He  has  been  riding  hard  all  day  —  has 
just  come  home  —  but  will  be  in  the  saddle  again  as  soon  as 
he  has  eat  and  drank,  to  meet  his  loving  friend." 

"Was  that  his  message  ?"  asked  the  visitor,  looking  up. 
but  without  the  smallest  discomposure  —  or  at  least  without 
smallest  show  of  any. 


94  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"All  but  the  last  words,"  Barnaby  rejoined.  "He  meant 
those.     I  saw  that  in  his  face." 

"  This  for  your  pains,"  said  the  other,  putting  money  in  his 
hand,  and  glancing  at  him  steadfastly.  "This  for  your 
pains,  sharp  Barnaby." 

"For  Grip,  and  me,  and  Hugh,  to  share  among  us,"  he 
rejoined,  putting  it  up,  and  nodding,  as  he  counted  it  on  his 
fingers.  "  Grip  one,  me  two,  Hugh  three ;  the  dog,  the 
goat,  the  cats,  —  well,  we  shall  spend  it  pretty  soon,  I  warn 
you.     Stay.  —  Look.     Do  you  wise  men  see  nothing  there, 


now 


?" 


He  bent  eagerly  down  on  one  knee,  and  gazed  intently  at 
the  smoke,  which  was  rolling  up  the  chimney  in  a  thick 
black  cloud.  John  Willet,  who  appeared  to  consider  himself 
particularly  and  chiefly  referred  to  under  the  term  wise 
men,  looked  that  way  likewise,  and  with  great  solidity  of 
feature. 

"  Now,  where  do  they  go  to,  when  they  spring  so  fast  up 
there,"  asked  Barnaby  ;  "  eh  ?  Why  do  they  tread  so  closely 
on  each  other's  heels,  and  why  are  they  always  in  a  hurry  — 
which  is  what  you  blame  me  for,  when  I  only  take  pattern  by 
these  busy  folk  about  me  ?  More  of  'em  !  catching  to  each 
other's  skirts  ;  and  as  fast  as  they  go,  others  come !  What 
a  merry  dance  it  is  !  I  would  that  Grip  and  I  could  frisk 
like  that ! " 

"  What  has  he  in  that  basket  at  his  back  ?  "  asked  the 
guest  after  a  few  moments,  during  which  Barnaby  was  still 
bending  down  to  look  higher  up  the  chimney,  and  earnestly 
watching  the  smoke. 

"  In  this  ?  "  he  answered,  jumping  up,  before  John  Willet 
could  reply —  shaking  it  as  he  spoke,  and  stooping  his  head 
to  listen.     "  In  this  !     What  is  there  here  ?     Tell  him  ! " 

"'  A  devil,  a  devil,  a  devil !  "  cried  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Here's  money  ! "  said  Barnaby,  chinking  it  in  his  hand, 
"  money  for  a  treat,  Grip  !  " 

"  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !  "  replied  the  raven,  "  keep  up 
your  spirits.     Never  say  die.     Bow,  wow,  wow  !  " 

Mr.  Willet,  who  appeared  to  entertain  strong  doubts 
whether  a  customer  in  a  laced  coat  and  fine  linen  could  be 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  95 

supposed  to  have  any  acquaintance  even  with  the  existence  of 
such  unpolite  gentry  as  the  bird  claimed  to  belong  to,  took 
Barnaby  off  at  this  juncture,  with  the  view  of  preventing  any 
other  improper  declarations,  and  quitted  the  room  with  his 
very  best  bow. 


96  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

There  was  great  news  that  night  for  the  regular  Maypole 
customers,  to  each  of  whom,  as  he  straggled  in  to  occupy 
his  allotted  seat  in  the  chimney  corner,  John  with  a  most 
impressive  slowness  of  delivery,  and  in  an  apoplectic  whisper, 
communicated  the  fact  that  Mr.  Chester  was  alone  in  the  large 
room  up-stairs,  and  was  waiting  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Geoffrey 
Haredale,  to  whom  he  had  sent  a  letter  (doubtless  of  a 
threatening  nature)  by  the  hands  of  Barnaby,  then  and  there 
present. 

For  a  little  knot  of  smokers  and  solemn  gossips,  who  had 
seldom  any  new  topics  of  discussion,  this  was  a  perfect  God- 
send. Here  was  a  good,  dark-looking  mystery  progressing 
under  that  very  roof  —  brought  home  to  the  fireside  as  it  were, 
and  enjoyable  without  the  smallest  pains  or  trouble.  It  is 
extraordinary  what  a  zest  and  relish  it  gave  to  the  drink,  and 
how  it  heightened  the  flavor  of  the  tobacco.  Every  man 
smoked  his  pipe  with  a  face  of  grave  and  serious  delight,  and 
looked  at  his  neighbor  with  a  sort  of  quiet  congratulation. 
Nay,  it  was  felt  to  be  such  a  holiday  and  special  night,  that, 
on  the  motion  of  little  Solomon  Daisy,  every  man  (including 
John  himself)  put  down  his  sixpence  for  a  can  of  flip,  which 
grateful  beverage  was  brewed  with  all  despatch,  and  set  down 
in  the  midst  of  them  on  the  brick  floor ;  both  that  it  might 
simmer  and  stew  before  the  fire,  and  that  its  fragrant  steam, 
rising  up  among  them  and  mixing  with  the  wreaths  of  vapor 
from  their  pipes,  might  shroud  them  in  a  delicious  atmosphere 
of  their  own  and  shut  out  all  the  world.  The  very  furniture 
of  the  room  seemed  to  mellow  and  -deepen  in  its  tone  ;  the 
ceiling  and  walls  looked  blacker  and  more  highly  polished, 
the  curtains  of  a  ruddier  red ;  the  fire  burned  clear  and  high, 
and  the  crickets  in  the  hearth-stone  chirped  with  a  more  than 
wonted  satisfaction. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  97 

There  were  present  two,  however,  who  showed  but  little 
interest  in  the  general  contentment.  Of  these,  one  was 
Barnaby  himself,  who  slept,  or,  to  avoid  being  beset  with 
questions,  feigned  to  sleep,  in  the  chimney  corner ;  the  other, 
Hugh,  who,  sleeping  too,  lay  stretched  upon  the  bencli  on  the 
opposite  side,  in  the  full  glare  of  the  blazing  fire. 

The  light  that  fell  upon  this  slumbering  form,  showed  it  in 
all  its  muscular  and  handsome  proportions.  It  was  that  of  a 
young  man,  of  a  hale  athletic  figure,  and  a  giant's  strength, 
whose  sunburned  face  and  swarthy  throat,  overgrown  with  jet 
black  hair,  might  have  served  a  painter  for  a  model.  Loosely 
attired,  in  the  coarsest  and  roughest  garb,  with  scraps  of  straw 
and  hay  —  his  usual  bed  —  clinging  here  and  there,  and 
mingling  with  his  uncombed  locks,  he  had  fallen  asleep  in  a 
posture  as  careless  as  his  dress.  The  negligence  and  disorder 
of  the  whole  man,  with  something  fierce  and  sullen  in  his 
features,  gave  him  a  picturesque  appearance,  that  attracted 
the  regards  even  of  the  Maypole  customers  who  knew  him 
well,  and  caused  Long  Parkes  to  say  that  Hugh  looked  more 
like  a  poaching  rascal  to-night  than  ever  he  had  seen  him  yet. 

"  He's  waiting  here,  I  suppose,"  said  Solomon,  "  to  take 
Mr.  Haredale's  horse." 

"  That's  it,  sir,"  replied  John  Willet.  "  He's  not  often  in 
the  house,  j^ou  know.  He's  more  at  his  ease  among  horses 
than  men.     I  look  upon  him  as  a  animal  himself." 

Following  up  this  opinion  with  a  shrug  that  seemed  meant 
to  say,  "we  can't  expect  everybody  to  be  like  us,"  John  put 
his  pipe  into  his  mouth  again,  and  smoked  like  one  who  felt 
his  superiority  over  the  general  run  of  mankind. 

"  That  chap,  sir,"  said  John,  taking  it  out  again  after  a 
time,  and  pointing  at  him  with  the  stem,  "  though  he's  got  all 
his  faculties  about  him — bottled  up  and  corked  down  if  I 
may  say  so,  somewheres  or  another  "  — 

"  Very  good  !  "  said  Parkes,  nodding  his  head.  "  A  very 
good  expression,  Johnny.  You'll  be  a-tackling  somebody 
presently.     You're  in  twig  to-night,  I  see." 

"  Take  care,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  not  at  all  grateful  for  tlie 
compliment,  "  that  I  don't  tackle  you,  sir,  wliicli  I  shall 
certainly   endeavor   to   do,   if    you    interrupt   me   wlien    I'm 

VOL.  I. 


98  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

making  observations.  —  That  chap,  I  was  a-saying,  though  he 
has  all  his  faculties  about  him,  somewheres  or  another,  bottled 
up  and  corked  down,  has  no  more  imagination  than  Barnaby 
has.     And  why  hasn't  he  ?  " 

The  three  friends  shook  their  heads  at  each  other ;  saying 
by  that  action,  without  the  trouble  of  opening  their  lips,  "  Do 
you  observe  what  a  philosophical  mind  our  friend  has  ?  " 

"  Why  hasn't  he  ? "  said  John,  gently  striking  the  table 
with  his  open  hand.  "  Because  they  was  never  drawed  out  of 
him  when  he  was  a  boy.  That's  why.  What  would  any  of 
us  have  been,  if  our  fathers  hadn't  drawed  our  faculties  out 
of  us  ?  What  would  my  boy  Joe  have  been,  if  I  hadn't 
drawed  his  faculties  out  of  him  —  Do  you  mind  what  I'm 
a-sayiug  of,  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  we  mind  you,"  cried  Parkes.  "  Go  on  improving  of 
us,  Johnny." 

"  Consequently,  then,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  "  that  chap,  whose 
mother  was  hung  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  along  with  six 
others,  for  passing  bad  notes  —  and  it's  a  blessed  thing  to 
think  how  many  people  are  hung  in  batches  every  six  weeks 
for  that,  and  such  like  offences,  as  showing  how  Avide  awake 
our  government  is  —  that  chap  was  then  turned  loose,  and  had 
to  mind  cows,  and  frighten  birds  away,  and  what  not,  for  a 
few  pence  to  live  on,  and  so  got  on  by  degrees  to  mind  horses, 
and  to  sleep  in  course  of  time  in  lofts  and  litter,  instead  of 
under  haystacks  and  hedges,  till  at  last  he  come  to  be  hostler 
at  the  Maypole  for  his  board  and  lodging  and  a  annual  trifle  — 
that  chap  that  can't  read  nor  write,  and  has  never  had  much 
to  do  with  anything  but  animals,  and  has  never  lived  in  any 
way  but  like  the  animals  he  has  lived  among,  is  a  animal. 
And,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  arriving  at  his  logical  conclusion,  "is 
to  be  treated  accordingly." 

"Willet,"  said  Solomon  Daisy,  who  had  exhibited  some 
impatience  at  the  intrusion  of  so  unworthy  a  subject  on  their 
more  interesting  theme,  "  when  Mr.  Chester  come  this  morn- 
ing, did  he  order  the  large  room  ?  " 

"He  signified,  sir,"  said  John,  "that  he  wanted  a  large 
apartment.     Yes.     Certainly." 

"Why  then,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Solomon,  speaking 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  99 

softly  and  with  an  earnest  look.  "  He  and  Mr.  Haredale  are 
going  to  fight  a  duel  in  it." 

Everybody  looked  at  Mr.  Willet,  after  this  alarming  sugges- 
tion. Mr.  Willet  looked  at  the  fire,  weighing  in  his  own  mind 
the  effect  which  such  an  occurrence  would  be  likely  to  have 
on  the  establishment. 

"Well,"  said  John,  "I  don't  know  —  I  am  sure — I  remem- 
ber that  when  I  went  up  last,  he  had  put  the  lights  upon  the 
mantel-shelf." 

"It's  as  plain,"  returned  Solomon,  "as  the  nose  on  Parkes's 
face"  —  Mr.  Parkes,  who  had  a  large  nose,  rubbed  it,  and 
looked  as  if  he  considered  this  a  personal  allusion  —  "they'll 
fight  in  that  room.  You  know  by  the  newspapers  what  a 
common  thing  it  is  for  gentlemen  to  fight  in  coffee-houses 
without  seconds.  One  of  'em  will  be  wounded  or  perhaps 
killed  in  this  house." 

"  That  was  a  challenge  that  Barnaby  took  then,  eh  ?  "  said 
John. 

a  —  Enclosing  a  slip  of  paper  with  the  measure  of  his  sword 
upon  it,  I'll  bet  a  guinea,"  answered  the  little  man.  "We 
know  what  sort  of  gentleman  INIr.  Haredale  is.  You  have 
told  us  what  Barnaby  said  about  his  looks,  when  he  came 
back.     Depend  upon  it  I'm  right.     Now,  mind." 

The  flip  had  had  no  flavor  till  now.  The  tobacco  had  been 
of  mere  English  growth,  compared  with  its  present  taste.  A 
duel  in  that  great  old  rambling  room  up-stairs,  and  the  best 
bed  ordered  already  for  the  wounded  man ! 

"  Would  it  be  swords  or  pistols  now  ?  "  said  John. 

"Heaven  knows.  Perhaps  both,"  returned  Solomon.  "The 
gentlemen  wear  swords,  and  may  easily  have  pistols  in  their 
pockets  —  most  likely  have,  indeed.  If  they  fire  at  each  other 
without  effect,  then  they'll  draw,  and  go  to  work  in  earnest." 

A  shade  passed  over  jNIr.  Willet's  face  as  he  thought  of 
broken  windows  and  disabled  furniture,  but  bethinking  him- 
self that  one  of  the  parties  would  probably  be  left  alive  to  pay 
the  damage,  he  brightened  up  again. 

"And  then,"  said  Solomon,  looking  from  face  to  face,  "then 
we  shall  have  one  of  those  stains  upon  tlie  floor  that  never 
come  out.     If  Mr.  Haredale  wins,  depend  upon  it,  it'll  be  a 


100  BAEXABY  BUDGE. 

deep  one ;  or  if  he  loses,  it  will  perhaps  be  deeper  still,  for 
he'll  never  give  in  unless  he's  beaten  down.  We  know  him 
better,  eh  ?  " 

"  Better  indeed ! "  they  whispered  all  together. 

"As  to  its  ever  being  got  out  again,"  said  Solomon,  "I  tell 
you  it  never  will,  or  can  be.  Why,  do  you  know  that  it  has 
been  tried,  at  a  certain  house  we  are  acquainted  with  ?  " 

"  The  Warren  !  "  cried  John.     "  No,  sure  ! " 

"Yes,  sure  —  yes.  It's  only  known  by  very  few.  It  has 
been  whispered  "about  though,  for  all  that.  They  planed  the 
board  away,  but  there  it  was.  They  went  deep,  but  it  went 
deeper.  They  put  new  boards  down,  but  there  was  one  great 
spot  that  came  through  still,  and  showed  itself  in  the  old 
place.  And — harkye  —  draw  nearer  —  Mr.  Geoffrey  made 
that  room  his  study,  and  sits  there,  always,  with  his  foot  (as  I 
have  heard)  upon  it ;  and  he  believes  through  thinking  of  it 
long  and  very  much,  that  it  will  never  fade  until  he  finds  the 
man  who  did  the  deed." 

As  this  recital  ended,  and  they  all  drew  closer  round  the 
fire,  the  tramp  of  a  horse  was  heard  without. 

"The  very  man!"  cried  John,  starting  up.  "'Hugh! 
Hugh ! " 

The  sleeper  staggered  to  his  feet,  and  hurried  after  him. 
John  quickly  returned,  ushering  in  with  great  attention  and 
deference  (for  j\Ir.  Haredale  was  his  landlord)  the  long- 
expected  visitor,  who  strode  into  the  room  clanking  his  heavy 
boots  upon  the  floor;  and  looking  keenly  round  upon  the 
bowing  group,  raised  his  hat  in  acknowledgment  of  their 
profound  respect. 

"You  have  a  stranger  here,  AVillet,  who  sent  to  me,"  he 
said,  in  a  voice  which  sounded  naturally  stern  and  deep. 
"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  the  great  room  up-stairs,  sir,"  answered  John. 

"  Show  the  way.  Your  staircase  is  dark,  I  know.  Gentle- 
men, good-night." 

With  that,  he  signed  to  the  landlord  to  go  on  before ;  and 
went  clanking  out,  and  up  the  stairs  ;  old  John,  in  his  agita- 
tion^-ingeniously  lighting  everything  but  the  way,  and  making 
a  stumble  at  ever}^  second  step. 


BAIiXABY  RUDGE.  101 

^^  Stop  !  ^'  he  said,  Avhen  they  reached  the  Landing.  "  I  can 
announce  myself.     Don't  wait." 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  the  door,  entered,  and  shut  it  heavily. 
Mr.  Willet  was  by  no  means  disposed  to  stand  there  listening 
by  himself,  especially  as  the  walls  were  very  thick ;  so 
descended,  with  much  greater  alacrity  than  he  had  come  up, 
and  joined  his  friends  below. 


102  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XIT. 

There  was  a  brief  pause  in  the  state-room  of  the  Maypole, 
as  Mr.  Haredale  tried  the  lock  to  satisfy  himself  that  he  had 
shut  the  door  securely,  and,  striding  up  the  dark  chamber  to 
where  the  screen  enclosed  a  little  patch  of  light  and  warmth, 
presented  himself,  abruptly  and  in  silence,  before  the  smiling 
guest. 

If  the  two  had  no  greater  sympathy  in  their  inward 
thoughts  than  in  their  outward  bearing  and  appearance,  the 
meeting  did  not  seem  likely  to  prove  a  very  calm  or  pleasant 
one.  With  no  great  disparity  between  them  in  point  of  years, 
they  were,  in  every  other  respect,  as  unlike  and  far  removed 
from  each  other  as  two  men  could  well  be.  The  one  was  soft- 
spoken,  delicately  made,  precise,  and  elegant;  the  other,  a 
burly  square-built  man,  negligently  dressed,  rough  and  abrupt 
in  manner,  stern,  and,  in  his  present  mood,  forbidding  both  in 
look  and  speech.  The  one  preserved  a  calm  and  placid  smile  ; 
the  other,  a  distrustful  frown.  The  new-comer,  indeed,  appeared 
bent  on  showing  by  his  every  tone  and  gesture  his  determined 
opposition  and  hostility  to  the  man  he  had  come  to  meet.  The 
guest  who  received  him,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to  feel 
tliat  the  contrast  between  them  was  all  in  his  favor,  and  to 
derive  a  quiet  exultation  from  it  which  put  him  more  at  his 
ease  than  ever. 

"Haredale,"  said  this  gentleman,  without  the  least  appear- 
ance of  embarrassment  or  reserve,  ^'I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you." 

"Let  us  dispense  with  compliments.  They  are  misplaced 
between  us,"  returned  the  other,  waving  his  hand,  "and  say 
plainly  what  we  have  to  say.  You  have  asked  me  to  meet 
you.     I  am  here.     Why  do  we  stand  face  to  face  again  ?  " 

"  Still  the  same  frank  and  sturdy  character,  I  see  ! " 

"  Good  or  bad,  sir,  I  am,"  returned  the  other,  leaning  his 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  103 

arm  upon  the  chimney-piece,  and  turning  a  haughty  look 
upon  the  occupant  of  the  easy-chair,  ''the  man  I  used  to  be. 
I  have  lost  no  old  likings  or  dislikings ;  my  memory  has  not 
failed  me  by  a  hair's-breadth.  You  ask  me  to  give  you  a 
meeting.     I  say,  I  am  here." 

"  Our  meeting,  Haredale,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  tapping  his 
snuff-box,  and  following  with  a  smile  the  impatient  gesture 
he  had  made  —  perhaps  unconsciously  —  towards  his  sword, 
"  is  one  of  conference  and  peace,  I  hope  ?  " 

"I  have  come  here,"  returned  the  other,  "at  your  desire, 
holding  myself  bound  to  meet  you,  when  and  where  you 
would.  I  have  not  come  to  bandy  pleasant  speeches,  or 
hollow  professions.  You  are  a  smooth  man  of  the  world,  sir, 
and  at  such  play  have  me  at  a  disadvantage.  The  very  last 
man  on  this  earth  with  whom  I  would  enter  the  lists  to 
combat  with  gentle  compliments  and  masked  faces,  is  Mr. 
Chester,  I  do  assure  you.  I  am  not  his  match  at  such 
weapons,  and  have  reason  to  believe  that  few  men  are." 

"You  do  me  a  great  deal  of  honor,  Haredale,"  returned 
the  other,  most  composedly,  "and  I  thank  you.  I  will  be 
frank  with  you  "  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  —  will  be  what  ?  " 

"Frank  — open  —  perfectly  candid." 

"  Hah  ! "  cried  ^Ir.  Haredale,  drawing  in  his  breath.  "  But 
don't  let  me  interrupt  you." 

"  So  resolved  am  I  to  hold  this  course,"  returned  the  other, 
tasting  his  wine  with  great  deliberation,  "  that  I  have  deter- 
mined not  to  quarrel  with  you,  and  not  to  be  betrayed  into  a 
warm  expression  or  a  hasty  word." 

"There  again,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "you  will  have  me  at 
a  great  advantage.     Your  self-command  "  — 

"  Is  not  to  be  disturbed,  when  it  will  serve  my  purpose, 
you  would  say,"  —  rejoined  the  other,  interrupting  him  with 
the  same  complacency.  "  Granted.  I  allow  it.  And  I  have 
a  purpose  to  serve  now.  So  have  you.  I  am  sure  our  object 
is  the  same.  Let  us  attain  it  like  sensible  men,  who  have 
ceased  to  be  boys  some  time.  —  Do  you  drink  ?  " 

"  With  iny  friends,"  returned  the  other. 

"  At  least,"  said  I\Ir.  Chester,  "  vou  will  be  seated  ?  " 


104  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"I  will  stand,''  returned  ]\[r.  Haredale,  impatiently,  "on 
this  dismantled  beggared  hearth,  and  not  pollute  it,  fallen  as 
it  is,  with  mockeries.     Go  on  !  " 

"  You  are  wrong,  Haredale,"  said  the  other  crossing  his 
legs,  and  smiling  as  he  held  his  glass  up  in  the  bright  glow 
of  the  lire.  "You  are  really  very  w^rong.  The  world  is  a 
lively  place  enough,  in  which  we  must  accommodate  ourselves 
to  circumstances,  sail  with  the  stream  as  glibly  as  we  can,  be 
content  to  take  froth  for  substance,  the  surface  for  the  depth, 
the  counterfeit  for  the  real  coin.  I  wonder  no  philosopher 
has  ever  established  that  our  globe  itself  is  hollow.  It 
should  be,  if  Nature  is  consistent  in  her  works." 

''You  think  it  is,  perhaps  ?  " 

"I  should  say,"  he  returned,  sipping  his  wine,  "there 
could  be  no  doubt  about  it.  Well ;  we,  in  our  trifling  with 
this  jingling  toy,  have  had  the  ill-luck  to  jostle  and  fall  out. 
We  are  not  what  the  world  calls  friends ;  but  we  are  as  good 
and  true  and  loving  friends  for  all  that,  as  nine  out  of  every 
ten  of  those  on  whom  it  bestows  the  title.  You  have  a  niece, 
and  I  a  son — a  fine  lad,  Haredale,  but  foolish.  They  fall  in 
love  with  each  other,  and  form  what  this  same  world  calls  an 
attachment ;  meaning  a  something  fanciful  and  false  like  all 
the  rest,  which,  if  it  took  its  own  free  time,  would  break  like 
any  other  bubble.  But  it  may  not  have  its  own  free  time  — 
w411  not,  if  they  are  left  alone  —  and  the  question  is,  shall  we 
two,  because  society  calls  us  enemies,  stand  aloof,  and  let 
them  rush  into  each  other's  arms,  w^hen,  by  approaching  each 
other  sensibly,  as  w^e  do  now,  we  can  prevent  it,  and  part 
them  ?  " 

"  I  love  my  niece,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  after  a  short  silence. 
"  It  may  sound  strangely  in  your  ears ;  but  I  love  her." 

"  Strangely,  my  good  fellow ! "  cried  Mr.  Chester,  lazily 
filling  his  glass  again,  and  pulling  out  his  toothpick.  "Not 
at  all.  I  like  Ned  too  —  or,  as  3'ou  say,  love  him  —  that's  the 
word  among  such  near  relations.  I'm  very  fond  of  Ned. 
He's  an  amazingly  good  fellow,  and  a  handsome  fellow  — 
foolish  and  weak  as  yet ;  that's  all.  But  the  thing  is, 
Haredale  —  for  I'll  be  very  frank,  as  I  told  you  I  would  at 
first  —  independently  of   any  dislike  that  you  and  I  might 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  105 

have  to  being  related  to  each  other,  and  independently  of  the 
religious  differences  between  us  —  and  damn  it,  that's  im- 
portant —  I  couldn't  afford  a  match  of  this  description.  Ned 
and  I  couldn't  do  it.     It's  impossible." 

"  Curb  your  tongue,  in  God's  name,  if  this  conversation  is 
to  last,"  retorted  Mr.  Haredale  fiercely.  "  I  have  said  I  love 
ray  niece.  Do  you  think  that,  loving  her,  I  would  have  her 
fling  her  heart  away  on  any  man  who  had  your  blood  in  his 
veins  ?  " 

"You  see,"  said  the  other,  not  at  all  disturbed,  "the 
advantage  of  being  so  frank  and  open.  Just  what  I  was 
about  to  add,  upon  my  honor  !  I  am  amazingly  attached  to 
Ned  —  quite  dote  upon  him,  indeed  —  and  even  if  we  could 
afford  to  throw  ourselves  away,  that  very  objection  would  be 
quite  insuperable.  —  I  wish  you'd  take  some  wine." 

"Mark  me,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  striding  to  the  table,  and 
laying  his  hand  u^^on  it  heavily.  "  If  any  man  believes  — 
presumes  to  think  —  that  I,  in  word,  or  deed,  or  in  the  wildest 
dream,  ever  entertained  remotely  the  idea  of  Emma  Hare- 
dale's  favoring  the  suit  of  one  who  was  akin  to  you  —  in  any 
way  —  I  care  not  what  —  he  lies.  He  lies,  and  does  me 
grievous  wrong,  in  the  mere  thought." 

"  Haredale,"  returned  the  other,  rocking  himself  to  and  fro 
as  in  assent,  and  nodding  at  the  tire,  "  it's  extremely  manly, 
and  really  very  generous  in  you,  to  meet  me  in  this  unreserved 
and  handsome  way.  Upon  my  word,  those  are  exactly  my 
sentiments,  only  expressed  with  much  more  force  and  power 
than  I  could  use — you  know  my  sluggish  nature,  and  will 
forgive  me,  I  am  sure." 

"  Wliile  I  would  restrain  her  from  all  correspondence  with 
your  son,  and  sever  their  intercourse  here,  though  it  should 
cause  her  death,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  who  had  been  pacing  to 
and  fro,  "  I  would  do  it  kindly  and  tenderly  if  I  can.  I  have 
a  trust  to  discharge  which  my  nature  is  not  formed  to  under- 
stand, and,  for  this  reason,  the  bare  fact  of  there  being  any 
love  between  them  comes  upon  me  to-night,  almost  for  the 
first  time." 

"  I  am  more  delighted  than  I  can  possibly  tell  you," 
rejoined  Mr.  Chester  with  tlie  utmost  bhindness,  "to  find  my 


106  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

own  impression  so  confirmed.  You  see  the  advantage  of  our 
having  met.  We  understand  each  other.  We  quite  agree. 
We  have  a  most  complete  and  thorough  explanation,  and  we 
know  what  course  to  take.  —  Why  don't  you  taste  your 
tenant's  wine  ?     It's  really  very  good." 

"  Pray  who,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  '-  have  aided  Emma,  or 
your  son  ?  Who  are  their  go-betweens,  and  agents  —  do  you 
know  ?  " 

"  All  the  good  people  hereabouts  —  the  neighborhood  in 
general,  I  think,"  returned  the  other,  with  his  most  affable 
smile.  "  The  messenger  I  sent  to  you  to-day,  foremost  among 
them  all." 

"  The  idiot  ?     Barnaby  ?  " 

"You  are  surprised  ?  I  am  glad  of  that,  for  I  was  rather 
so  myself.  Yes.  I  wrung  that  from  his  mother  —  a  very 
decent  sort  of  woman  —  from  whom,  indeed,  I  chiefly  learned 
how  serious  the  matter  had  become,  and  so  determined  to  ride 
out  here  to-day,  and  hold  a  parley  with  you  on  this  neutral 
ground,  —  You're  stouter  than  you  used  to  be,  Haredale,  but 
you  look  extremely  well." 

"  Our  business,  I  presume,  is  nearly  at  an  end,"  said  Mr. 
Haredale,  with  an  expression  of  impatience  he  was  at  no 
pains  to  conceal.  "Trust  me,  Mr.  Chester,  my  niece  shall 
change  from  this  time.  I  will  appeal,"  he  added  in  a  lower 
tone,  "to  her  woman's  heart,  her  dignity,  her  pride,  her 
duty  "  — 

"  I  shall  do  the  same  by  Ned,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  restoring 
some  errant  fagots  to  their  places  in  the  grate  with  the  toe 
of  his  boot.  "  If  there  is  anything  real  in  the  world,  it  is 
those  amazingly  fine  feelings  and  those  natural  obligations 
which  must  subsist  between  father  and  son.  I  shall  put  it  to 
him  on  every  ground  of  moral  and  religious  feeling.  I  shall 
represent  to  him  that  we  cannot  possibly  afford  it  —  that  I 
have  always  looked  forward  to  his  marrying  well,  for  a 
genteel  provision  for  myself  in  the  autumn  of  life  —  that  there 
are  a  great  many  clamorous  dogs  to  pay,  whose  claims  are 
perfectly  just  and  right,  and  who  must  be  paid  out  of  his 
wife's  fortune.  In  short  that  the  very  highest  and  most 
honorable  feelings  of  our  nature,  with  every  consideration  of 


BAENABT  BUDGE.  107 

filial  duty  and  affection,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  impera- 
tively demand  that  he  should  run  away  with  an  heiress." 

"  And  break  her  heart  as  speedily  as  possible  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Haredale,  drawing  on  his  glove. 

"  There  Ned  will  act  exactly  as  he  pleases,"  returned  the 
other,  sipping  his  wine ;  "  that's  entirely  his  affair.  I 
wouldn't  for  the  world  interfere  with  my  son,  Haredale, 
beyond  a  certain  point.  The  relationship  between  father  and 
son,  you  know,  is  positively  quite  a  holy  kind  of  bond.  — 
WonH  you  let  me  persuade  you  to  take  one  glass  of  wine  ? 
Well !  as  you  please,  as  you  please/'  he  added,  helping 
himself  again. 

"  Chester,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  after  a  short  silence,  during 
which  he  had  eyed  his  smiling  face  from  time  to  time  intently, 
"  you  have  the  head  and  heart  of  an  evil  spirit  in  all  matters 
of  deception." 

"  Your  health  !  "  said  the  other,  with  a  nod.  "  But  I  have 
interrupted  you  "  — 

"  If  now,"  pursued  Mr.  Haredale,  ''  we  should  find  it  difficult 
to  separate  these  young  people,  and  break  off  their  intercourse 

—  if,  for  instance,  you  find  it  difficult  on  your  side,  what  course 
do  you  intend  to  take  ?  " 

"  Nothing  plainer,  my  good  fellow,  nothing  easier,"  returned 
the  other,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and  stretching  himself  more 
comfortably  before  the  fire.  "I  shall  then  exert  those  powers 
on  which  you  flatter  me  so  highly  —  though,  upon  my  word, 
I  don't  deserve  your  compliments  to  their  full  extent  —  and 
resort  to  a  few  little  trivial  subterfuges  for  rousing  jealousy 
and  resentment.     You  see  ?  " 

"  In  short,  justifying  the  means  by  the  end,  we  are,  as  a  last 
resource  for  tearing  them  asunder,  to  resort  to  treachery  and 

—  and  lying,"  said  Mr.  Haredale. 

"Oh,  dear,  no.  Fie,  fie!"  returned  the  other,  relishing  a 
pinch  of  snuff  extremely.  "Not  lying.  Only  a  little  manage- 
ment, a  little  diplomacy,  a  little  —  intriguing;  that's  the  word." 

"  I  wish,"  said  jNIr.  Haredale,  moving  to  and  fro,  and  stopping, 
and  moving  on  again,  like  one  who  was  ill  at  ease,  ''that  this 
could  have  been  foreseen  or  prevented.  But  as  it  has  gone  so 
far,  and  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  act,  it  is  of  no  use  shrinking 


BAKNABT  RUUGE.  109 

pulled  them  off,  and,  by  opening  his  eyes  much  wider  than 
usual,  to  appear  to  express  some  surprise  and  disappointment 
at  not  finding  them  full  of  blood.  He  took  occasion,  too,  to 
examine  the  gentleman  as  closely  as  he  could,  expecting  to 
discover  sundry  loop-holes  in  his  person,  pierced  by  his  adver- 
sa,ry's  sword.  Finding  none,  however,  and  observing  in  course 
of  time  that  his  guest  was  as  cool  and  unruffled,  both  in  his 
dress  and  temper,  as  he  had  been  all  day,  old  John  at  last 
heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  began  to  think  no  duel  had  been 
fought  that  night. 

"And  now,  Willet,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "if  the  room's  well 
aired,  I'll  try  the  merits  of  that  famous  bed." 

"The  room,  sir,"  returned  John,  taking  up  the  candle,  and 
nudging  Barnaby  and  Hugh  to  accompany  them,  in  case  the 
gentleman  should  unexpectedly  drop  down  faint  or  dead  from 
some  internal  wound,  "  the  room's  as  warm  as  any  toast  in  a 
tankard.  Barnaby,  take  you  that  other  candle,  and  go  on 
before.     Hugh  !     Follow  up,  sir,  with  the  easy-chair." 

In  this  order  —  and  still,  in  his  earnest  inspection,  holding 
his  candle  very  close  to  the  guest ;  now  making  him  feel 
extremely  warm  about  the  legs,  now  threatening  to  set  his 
wig  on  fire,  and  constantly  begging  his  pardon  with  great 
awkwardness  and  embarrassment  —  John  led  the  part}^  to  the 
best  bedroom,  which  was  nearly  as  large  as  the  chamber  from 
which  they  had  come,  and  held,  drawn  out  near  the  fire  for 
warmth,  a  great  old  spectral  bedstead,  liung  with  faded  bro- 
cade, and  ornamented,  at  the  top  of  each  carved  post,  with  a 
plume  of  feathers  that  had  once  been  white,  but  with  dust  and 
age  had  now  grown  hearse-like  and  funereal. 

"Good-night,  my  friends,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with  a  SAveet 
smile,  seating  himself,  when  he  had  surveyed  the  room  from 
end  to  end,  in  the  easy-chair  which  his  attendants  wheeled 
before  the  fire.  "  Good-night !  Barnaby,  my  good  fellow,  you 
say  some  prayers  before  you  go  to  bed,  I  hope  ?  " 

Barnaby  nodded.  "  He  has  some  nonsense  that  he  calls  his 
prayers,  sir,"  returned  old  John,  officiously.  "I'm  afraid  there 
ain't  much  good  in  'em." 

"And  Hugh  ?"  said  Mr.  Chester,  turning  to  liim. 

"Not  I,"  he  answered.     "  I  know  Ins"  —  i)ointing  to  Barnaby 


110  BABNABT  RUDGE. 

—  "they're  well  enough.  He  sings  'em  sometimes  in  the  straw. 
I  listen." 

"He's  quite  a  animal,  sir,"  John  whispered  in  his  ear  with 
dignity.  "  You'll  excuse  him,  I'm  sure.  If  he  has  any  soul  at 
all,  sir,  it  must  be  such  a  very  small  one,  that  it  don't  signify 
what  he  does  or  doesn't  in  that  way.     Good-night,  sir  ! " 

The  guest  rejoined  "  God  bless  you  ! "  with  a  fervor  that  was 
quite  affecting ;  and  John,  beckoning  his  guards  to  go  before, 
bowed  himself  out  of  the  room,  and  left  him  to  his  rest  in  the 
Maypole's  ancient  bed. 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  Ill 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

If  Joseph  Willet,  the  denounced  and  proscribed  of  'pren- 
tices, had  happened  to  be  at  home  when  his  father's  courtly 
guest  presented  himself  before  the  Maypole  door  —  that  is,  if 
it  had  not  perversely  chanced  to  be  one  of  the  half-dozen  days 
in  the  whole  year  on  which  he  was  at  liberty  to  absent  himself 
for  as  many  hours  without  question  or  reproach  —  he  would 
have  contrived,  by  hook  or  crook,  to  dive  to  the  very  bottom 
of  Mr.  Chester's  mystery,  and  to  come  at  his  purpose  with  as 
much  certainty  as  though  he  had  been  his  confidential  adviser. 
In  that  fortunate  case,  the  lovers  would  have  had  quick  warn- 
ing- of  the  ills  that  threatened  them,  and  the  aid  of  various 
timely  and  wise  suggestions  to  boot ;  for  all  Joe's  readiness  of 
thought  and  action,  and  all  his  sympathies  and  good  wislies, 
were  enlisted  in  favor  of  the  young  people,  and  were  stanch 
in  devotion  to  their  cause.  Whether  this  disposition  arose  out 
of  his  old  prepossessions  in  favor  of  the  young  lady,  whose 
history  had  surrounded  her  in  his  mind,  almost  from  liis  cradle, 
with  circumstances  of  unusual  interest ;  or  from  his  attach- 
ment towards  the  young  gentleman,  into  whose  confidence  he 
had,  through  his  shrewdness  and  alacrity,  and  the  rendering 
of  sundry  important  services  as  a  spy  and  messenger,  almost 
imperceptibly  glided  ;  whether  they  had  their  origin  in  either 
of  these  sources,  or  in  the  habit  natural  to  youth,  or  in  the 
constant  badgering  and  worrying  of  his  venerable  parent,  or  in 
any  hidden  little  love  affair  of  his  own  which  gave  liim  some- 
thing of  a  fellow-feeling  in  the  matter,  it  is  needless  to  inquire 
—  especially  as  Joe  was  out  of  the  way,  and  had  no  opportu- 
nity on  that  particular  occasion  of  testifying  to  his  sentiments 
either  on  one  side  or  the  other, 

It  was,  in  fact,  the  twenty-fifth  of  INfarch,  which,  as  most 
people  know  to  their  cost,  is,  and  has  been  time  out  of  mind, 
one  of  those  unpleasant  epoclis  tiMincd  (piarter-days.     On  tliis 


112  BARNABY  RUBGE. 

twenty-fifth  of  March,  it  was  John  Willet's  pride  annually  to 
settle,  in  hard  cash,  his  account  with  a  certain  vintner  and  dis- 
tiller in  the  city  of  London  ;  to  give  into  whose  hands  a  canvas 
bag  containing  its  exact  amount,  and  not  a  penny  more  or  less, 
was  the  end  and  object  of  a  journey  for  Joe,  so  surely  as  the 
year  and  day  came  round. 

This  journey  was  performed  upon  an  old  gray  mare,  con- 
cerning whom  John  had  an  indistinct  set  of  ideas  hovering 
about  him,  to  the  effect  that  she  coukl  win  a  plate  or  cup  if 
she  tried.  She  never  had  tried,  and  probably  never  would 
now,  being  some  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age,  short  in 
wind,  long  in  body,  and  rather  the  worse  for  wear  in  respect 
of  her  mane  and  tail.  Xotwithstanding  these  slight  defects, 
John  perfectly  gloried  in  the  animal;  and  when  she  was 
brought  round  to  the  door  by  Hugh,  actually  retired  into  the 
bar,  and  there,  in  a  secret  grove  of  lemons,  laughed  with 
pride. 

"  There's  a  bit  of  horseflesh,  Hugh  ! "  said  John,  when  he 
had  recovered  enough  self-command  to  appear  at  the  door 
again.  ''  There's  a  comely  creatur !  There's  high  mettle  ! 
There's  bone  !  " 

There  was  bone  enough  beyond  all  doubt ;  and  so  Hugh 
seemed  to  think,  as  he  sat  sideways  in  the  saddle,  lazily 
doubled  up  with  his  chin  nearly  touching  his  knees  ;  and 
heedless  of  the  dangling  stirrups  and  loose  bridle-rein,  saun- 
tered up  and  down  on  the  little  green  before  the  door. 

"Mind  you  take  good  care  of  her,  sir,"  said  John,  appeal- 
ing from  this  insensible  person  to  his  son  and  heir,  who  now 
appeared,  fully  equipped  and  ready.     "Don't  you  ride  hard." 

"I  should  be  puzzled  to  do  that,  I  think,  father,"  Joe 
replied,  casting  a  disconsolate  look  at  the  animal. 

"None  of  your  impudence,  sir,  if  you  please,"  retorted  old 
John.  "  What  would  you  ride,  sir  ?  A  wild  ass  or  zebra 
would  be  too  tame  for  you,  wouldn't  he,  eh,  sir  ?  You'd  like 
to  ride  a  roaring  lion,  wouldn't  you,  sir,  eh,  sir  ?  Hold  your 
tongue,  sir."  When  Mr.  Willet,  in  his  differences  with  his 
son,  had  exhausted  all  the  questions  that  occurred  to  him, 
and  Joe  had  said  nothing  at  all  in  answer,  he  generally  wound 
up  by  bidding  him  hold  his  tongue. 


BARXABT  RUDGE.  113 

"And  what  does  the  boy  mean,"  added  'Mv.  Willet,  after 
he  had  stared  at  him  for  a  little  time,  in  a  species  of  stupe- 
faction, "  by  cocking  his  hat  to  such  an  extent !  Are  you 
a-going  to  kill  the  wintner,  sir  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  said  Joe,  tartly ;  "  I'm  not.  Now  your  mind's  at 
ease,  father." 

"With  a  milintary  air,  too!"  said  Mr.  Willet,  surveying 
him  from  top  to  toe  ;  "  with  a  sw^aggering,  fire-eating,  biling- 
water  drinking  sort  of  way  with  him  !  And  what  do  you 
mean  by  pulling  up  the  crocuses  and  snowdrops,  eh,  sir  ?" 

"  It's  only  a  little  nosegay,  said  Joe,  reddening.  "  There's 
no  harm  in  that,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  You're  a  boy  of  business,  you  are,  sir  !  "  said  Mr.  Willet, 
disdainfully,  "  to  go  supposing  that  wintners  care  for  nose- 
gays." 

"I  don't  suppose  anything  of  the  kind,"  returned  Joe. 
"  Let  them  keep  their  red  noses  for  bottles  and  tankards. 
These  are  going  to  Mv.  Varden's  house." 

"And  do  you  suppose  he  minds  such  things  as  crocuses?" 
demanded  John. 

"I  don't  know,  and  to  say  the  truth,  I  don't  care,"  said  Joe. 
"Come,  father,  give  me  the  money,  and  in  the  name  of  patience 
let  me  go." 

"There  it  is,  sir,"  replied  John  ;  "'and  take  care  of  it;  and 
mind  you  don't  make  too  much  haste  back,  but  give  the  mare 
a  long  rest.  —  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Ay,  I  mind,"  returned  Joe.  "  She'll  need  it.  Heaven 
knows." 

"  And  don't  you  score  up  too  much  at  the  Black  Lion,"  said 
John.     "  Mind  that  too." 

"Then  why  don't  you  let  me  have  some  money  of  my 
own?"  retorted  Joe,  sorrowfully;  "why  don't  you,  father? 
What  do  you  send  me  into  London  for,  giving  me  only  the 
right  to  call  for  my  dinner  at  the  Black  Lion,  which  you're 
to  pay  for  next  time  you  go,  as  if  I  was  not  to  be  trusted 
with  a  few  shillings  ?  Why  do  you  use  me  like  this  ?  It's 
not  right  of  you.     You  can't  ex})ect  me  to  be  quiet  under  it." 

"Let  him  have  money  ! "  cried  John  in  a  drowsy  reverie. 
"What    does    he    call    money  —  guineas?      Hasn't   he    got 

VOL.    T. 


114  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

money  ?  Over  and  above  the  tolls,  hasn't  he  one  and  six- 
pence ?  " 

"One  and  sixpence  !  "  repeated  his  son  contemptuously. 

"Yes,  sir,"  returned  John,  "one  and  sixpence.  When  I 
was  your  age,  I  had  never  seen  so  much  money,  in  a  heap. 
A  shilling  of  it  is  in  case  of  accidents  —  the  mare  casting  a 
shoe,  or  the  like  of  that.  The  other  sixpence  is  to  spend  in 
the  diversions  of  London  ;  and  the  diversion  I  recommend  is 
going  to  the  top  of  the  Monument,  and  sitting  there.  There's 
no  temptation  there,  sir  —  no  drink  —  no  young  women  —  no 
bad  characters  of  any  sort  —  nothing  but  imagination.  That's 
the  way  I  enjoyed  myself  when  I  was  your  age,  sir." 

To  this  Joe  made  no  answer,  but  beckoning  Hugh,  leaped 
into  the  saddle  and  rode  away ;  and  a  very  stalwart,  manly 
horseman  he  looked,  deserving  a  better  charger  than  it  was 
his  fortune  to  bestride.  John  stood  staring  after  him,  or 
rather  after  the  gray  mare  (for  he  had  no  eyes  for  her  rider), 
until  man  and  beast  had  been  out  of  sight  some  twenty 
minutes,  when  he  began  to  think  they  were  gone,  and  slowly 
re-entering  the  house,  fell  into  a  gentle  doze. 

The  unfortunate  gray  mare,  who  was  the  agony  of  Joe's 
life,  floundered  along  at  her  own  will  and  pleasure  until  the 
Maypole  was  no  longer  visible,  and  then,  contracting  her  legs 
into  what  in  a  puppet  would  have  been  looked  upon  as  a 
clumsy  and  awkward  imitation  of  a  canter,  mended  her  pace 
all  at  once,  and  did  it  of  her  own  accord.  The  acquaintance 
with  her  rider's  usual  mode  of  proceeding,  which  suggested 
this  improvement  in  hers,  impelled  her  likewise  to  turn  up  a 
by-way,  leading — not  to  London,  but  through  lanes  running 
])arallel  with  the  road  they  had  come,  and  passing  within  a 
few  hundred  yards  of  the  Maypole,  which  led  finally  to  an 
enclosure  surrounding  a  large,  old,  red-brick  mansion — the 
same  of  which  mention  was  made  as  the  Warren  in  the  first 
chapter  of  this  history.  Coming  to  a  dead  stop,  in  a  little 
copse  thereabout,  she  suffered  her  rider  to  dismount  with 
right  good-will,  and  to  tie  her  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree. 

"  Stay  there,  old  girl,"  said  Joe,  "  and  let  us  see  whether 
there's  any  little  commission  for  me  to-day."  So  saying,  he 
left  her  to  browse  upon  such  stunted  grass  and  weeds  as  hap- 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  115 

pened  to  grow  within  the  length  of  her  tether,  and  passing 
through  a  wicket  gate,  entered  the  grounds  on  foot. 

The  pathway,  after  a  very  few  minutes'  walking,  brought 
him  close  to  the  house,  towards  which,  and  especially  towards 
one  particular  window,  he  directed  many  covert  glances.  It 
was  a  dreary,  silent  building,  with  echoing  courtyards,  deso- 
lated turret-chambers,  and  whole  suites  of  rooms  shut  up  and 
mouldering  to  ruin. 

The  terrace-garden,  dark  with  the  shade  of  overhanging 
trees,  had  an  air  of  melancholy  that  was  quite  oppressive. 
Great  iron  gates,  disused  for  many  years,  and  red  with  rust, 
drooping  on  their  hinges  and  overgrown  with  long  rank  grass, 
seemed  as  though  they  tried  to  sink  into  the  ground,  and  hide 
their  fallen  state  among  the  friendly  weeds.  The  fantastic 
monsters  on  the  walls,  green  with  age  and  damp,  and  covered 
here  and  there  with  moss,  looked  grim  and  desolate.  There 
was  a  sombre  aspect  even  on  that  part  of  the  mansion  which 
was  inhabited  and  kept  in  good  repair,  that  struck  the  be- 
holder with  a  sense  of  sadness ;  of  something  forlorn  and 
failing,  whence  cheerfulness  was  banished.  It  would  have 
been  difficult  to  imagine  a  bright  fire  blazing  in  the  dull  and 
darkened  rooms,  or  to  picture  any  gayety  of  heart  or  revelry 
that  the  frowning  walls  shut  in.  It  seemed  a  place  where 
such  things  had  been,  but  could  be  no  more  —  the  very  ghost 
of  a  house,  haunting  the  old  spot  in  its  old  outward  form, 
and  that  was  all. 

Much  of  this  decayed  and  sombre  look  was  attributable,  no 
doubt,  to  the  death  of  its  former  master,  and  the  temper  of  its 
present  occupant ;  but  remembering  the  tale  connected  with 
the  mansion,  it  seemed  the  very  place  for  such  a  deed,  and 
one  that  might  have  been  its  predestined  theatre  years  upon 
years  ago.  Viewed  with  reference  to  this  legend,  the  sheet  of 
water  where  the  steward's  body  had  been  found  appeared  to 
wear  a  black  and  sullen  character,  sucli  as  no  other  pool  might 
own  ;  the  bell  upon  the  roof  that  had  told  the  tale  of  murder 
to  the  midnight  wind,  became  a  very  phantom  whose  voice 
would  raise  the  listener's  hair  on  end ;  and  every  leafless 
bough  that  nodded  to  another,  had  its  stealthy  wliispering  of 
the  crime. 


116  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

Joe  paced  up  and  down  the  path,  sometimes  stopping  in 
affected  contemplation  of  the  buikling  or  the  prospect,  some- 
times leaning  against  a  tree  with  an  assumed  air  of  idleness 
and  indifference,  but  alwaj^s  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  window 
he  had  singled  out  at  first.  After  some  quarter  of  an  hour's 
delay,  a  small  white  hand  was  waved  to  him  for  an  instant 
from  this  casement,  and  the  young  man,  with  a  respectful  bow, 
departed ;  saying  under  his  breath  as  he  crossed  his  horse 
again,  "  No  errand  for  me  to-day  ! " 

But  the  air  of  smartness,  the  cock  of  the  hat  to  which  John 
Willet  had  objected,  and  the  spring  nosegay,  all  betokened 
some  little  errand  of  his  own,  having  a  more  interesting 
object  than  a  vintner  or  even  a  locksmith.  So,  indeed,  it 
turned  out ;  for  when  he  had  settled  with  the  vintner  —  whose 
place  of  business  was  down  in  some  deep  cellars  hard  by 
Thames  Street,  and  who  was  as  purple-faced  an  old  gentleman 
as  if  he  had  all  his  life  supported  their  arched  roof  on  his 
head  —  when  he  had  settled  the  account,  and  taken  the  receipt, 
and  declined  tasting  more  than  three  glasses  of  old  sherry,  to 
the  unbounded  astonishment  of  the  purple-faced  vintner,  who, 
gimlet  in  hand,  had  projected  an  attack  upon  at  least  a  score 
of  dusty  casks,  and  who  stood  transfixed,  or  morally  gimleted 
as  it  were,  to  his  own  wall  —  when  he  had  done  all  this,  and 
disposed  besides  of  a  frugal  dinner  at  the  Black  Lion  in 
AVhitechapel  ;  spurning  the  Monument  and  John's  advice,  he 
turned  his  steps  towards  the  locksmith's  house,  attracted  by 
the  eyes  of  blooming  Dolly  Varden. 

Joe  was  by  no  means  a  sheepish  fellow,  but,  for  all  that, 
when  he  got  to  the  corner  of  the  street  in  which  the  locksmith 
lived,  he  could  by  no  means  make  up  his  mind  to  walk 
straight  to  the  house.  First,  he  resolved  to  stroll  up  another 
street  for  five  minutes,  then  up  another  street  for  five  minutes 
more,  and  so  on  until  he  had  lost  full  half  an  hour,  when  he 
made  a  bold  plunge  and  found  himself  with  a  red  face  and  a 
beating  heart  in  the  smoky  ^vorkshop. 

"  Joe  Willet,  or  his  ghost  ?  "  said  Varden,  rising  from  the 
desk  at  which  he  was  busy  with  his  books,  and  looking  at 
him  under  his  spectacles.  "  Which  is  it  ?  Joe  in  the  flesh, 
eh  ?  That's  hearty.  And  how  are  all  the  Chigwell  company, 
Joe  ?  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  117 

"Much  as  usual,  sir  —  they  and  I  agree  as  well  as  ever." 

"Well,  well  !  "  said  the  locksmith.  "  We  must  be  patient, 
Joe,  and  bear  with  old  folks'  foibles.  How's  the  mare,  Joe  ? 
Does  she  do  the  four  miles  an  hour  as  easily  as  ever  ?  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  Does  she,  Joe  ?  Eh  !  —  What  have  we  there,  Joe  — 
a  nosegay ! " 

"A  very  poor  one,  sir —  I  thought  Miss  Dolly  "  — 

"  No,  no,"  said  Gabriel,  dropping  his  voice,  and  shaking  his 
head,  "not  Dolly.  Give  'em  to  her  mother,  Joe.  A  great 
deal  better  give  'em  to  her  mother.  Would  you  mind  giving 
'em  to  Mrs.  Varden,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  sir,"  Joe  replied,  and  endeavoring,  but  not  with 
the  greatest  possible  success,  to  hide  his  disappointment.  "  I 
shall  be  very  glad,  I'm  sure." 

"That's  right,"  said  the  locksmith,  patting  him  on  the 
back.     "  It  don't  matter  who  has  'em,  Joe  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit,  sir."  —  Dear  heart,  how  the  words  stuck  in  his 
throat ! 

"  Come  in,"  said  Gabriel.  "  I  have  just  been  called  to  tea. 
She's  in  the  parlor." 

"She,"  thought  Joe.  "Which  of  'em,  I  wonder  —  Mrs.  or 
Miss  ?  "  The  locksmith  settled  the  doubt  as  neatly  as  if  it 
had  been  expressed  aloud,  by  leading  him  to  the  door,  and 
saying,  "  Martha,  my  dear,  here's  young  Mr.  Willet." 

Now,  Mrs.  Varden,  regarding  the  Maypole  as  a  sort  of 
human  man-trap,  or  decoy  for  husbands ;  viewing  its  pro- 
prietor, and  all  who  aided  and  abetted  him,  in  the  light  of  so 
many  poachers  among  Christian  men ;  and  believing,  more- 
over, that  the  publicans  coupled  with  sinners  in  Holy  Writ 
were  veritable  licensed  victuallers ;  was  far  from  being 
favorably  disposed  towards  her  visitor.  Wherefore  she  was 
taken  faint  directly ;  and  being  duly  presented  with  the 
crocuses  and  snowdrops,  divined  on  further  consideration  that 
they  were  the  occasion  of  the  languor  which  had  seized  upon 
her  spirits.  "  I'm  afraid  I  couldn't  bear  the  room  another 
minute,"  said  the  good  lady,  "  if  they  remained  here.  Would 
you  excuse  my  putting  them  out  of  window  ?  " 

Joe  begged  she  wouldn't  mention  it  on  any  account,  and 
smiled  feebly  as  he  saw  them  deposited  on  the  sill  outside.    If 


118  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

anybody  could  have  known  the  pains  he  had  taken  to  make  up 
that  despised  and  misused  bunch  of  floAvers  ! 

"  I  feel  it  quite  a  relief  to  get  rid  of  them,  I  assure  you," 
said  Mrs.  Yarden.  "I'm  better  already."  And  indeed  she 
did  appear  to  have  plucked  up  her  spirits. 

Joe  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Providence  for  this  favorable 
dispensation,  and  tried  to  look  as  if  he  didn't  wonder  where 
Dolly  was. 

"You're  sad  people  at  Chigwell,  Mr.  Joseph,"  said  Mrs.  Y. 

"'  I  hope  not,  ma'am,"  returned  Joe. 

"You're  the  cruellest  and  most  inconsiderate  people  in  the 
world,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden,  bridling.  "  I  wonder  old  Mr. 
Willet,  having  been  a  married  man  himself,  doesn't  know 
better  than  to  conduct  himself  as  he  does.  His  doing  it  for 
profit  is  no  excuse.  I  would  rather  pay  the  money  twenty 
times  over,  and  have  Yarden  come  home  like  a  respectable 
and  sober  tradesman.  If  there  is  one  character,"  said  Mrs. 
Yarden  with  great  emphasis,  "  that  offends  and  disgusts  me 
more  than  another,  it  is  a  sot." 

"  Come,  Martha,  my  dear,"  said  the  locksmith  cheerily,  "  let 
us  have  tea,  and  don't  let  us  talk  about  sots.  There  are  none 
here,  and  Joe  don't  want  to  hear  about  them,  I  dare  say." 

At  this  crisis,  Miggs  appeared  with  toast. 

"  I  dare  say  he  does  not,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden  ;  "  and  I  dare 
say  you  do  not,  Yarden.  It's  a  ver}^  unpleasant  subject  I  have 
no  doubt,  though  I  won't  say  it's  personal "  —  Miggs  coughed 
—  "whatever  I  may  be  forced  to  think,"  Miggs  sneezed  expres- 
sively. "  You  never  will  know,  Yarden,  and  nobody  at  young 
Mr.  Willet's  age  —  you'll  excuse  me,  sir  —  can  be  expected  to 
know,  Avhat  a  woman  suffers  when  she  is  waiting  at  home  under 
such  circumstances.  If  you  don't  believe  me,  as  I  know  you 
don't,  here's  Miggs,  who  is  only  too  often  a  witness  of  it  — 
ask  her." 

"  Oh !  she  were  very  bad  the  other  night,  sir,  indeed  she 
were,"  said  Miggs.  "If  you  hadn't  the  sweetness  of  an 
angel  in  you,  mim,  I  don't  think  you  could  a-bear  it,  I  raly 
don't." 

"Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden,  "you're  profane." 

"Begging  your  pardon,  mim,"  returned  Miggs,  with  shrill 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  119 

rapidit}',  "such  Avas  not  my  intentions,  and  such  I  liope  is  not 
my  character,  though  I  am  but  a  servant." 

"Answering  me,  Miggs,  and  providing  yourself,"  retorted 
her  mistress,  looking  round  with  dignity,  "is  one  and  the 
same  thing.  How  dare  you  speak  of  angels  in  connection 
with  your  sinful  fellow-beings  —  mere"  —  said  Mrs.  Varden, 
glancing  at  herself  in  a  neighboring  mirror,  and  arranging  the 
ribbon  of  her  cap  in  a  more  becoming  fashion  —  "  mere  worms 
and  grovellers  as  we  are  ! " 

"  I  did  not  intend,  mim,  if  you  please,  to  give  offence,"  said 
Miggs,  confident  in  the  strength  of  her  compliment,  and 
developing  strongly  in  the  throat  as  usual,  "and  I  did  not 
expect  it  would  be  took  as  such.  I  hope  I  know  my  own 
unworthiness,  and  that  I  hate  and  despise  myself  and  all  my 
fellow-creatures  as  every  practicable  Christian  should." 

"You'll  have  the  goodness,  if  you  please,"  said  ]\[rs.  Varden 
loftily,  "  to  step  up-stairs  and  see  if  Dolly  has  finished  dress- 
ing, and  to  tell  her  that  the  chair  that  was  ordered  for  her 
will  be  here  in  a  minute,  and  that  if  she  keeps  it  waiting,  I 
shall  send  it  away  that  instant.  —  I'm  sorry  to  see  that  you 
don't  take  your  tea,  Varden,  and  that  you  don't  take  yours, 
Mr.  Joseph  ;  though  of  course  it  would  be  foolish  of  me  to 
expect  that  anything  that  can  be  had  at  home,  and  in  the 
company  of  females,  would  please  i/ou.^' 

This  pronoun  was  understood  in  the  plural  sense,  and 
included  both  gentlemen,  upon  both  of  whom  it  was  rather 
hard  and  undeserved,  for  Gabriel  had  applied  himself  to  the 
meal  with  a  very  promising  appetite,  until  it  was  spoiled  by 
Mrs.  Varden  herself,  and  Joe  had  as  great  a  liking  for  the 
female  society  of  the  locksmith's  house  —  or  for  a  part  of  it 
at  all  events  —  as  man  could  well  entertain. 

But  he  had  no  opportunity  to  say  anything  in  his  own 
defence,  for  at  that  moment  Dolly  herself  appeared,  and  struck 
him  quite  dumb  with  her  beauty.  Never  had  Dolly  looked  so 
handsome  as  she  did  then,  in  all  the  glow  and  grace  of  youth, 
with  all  her  charms  increased  a  hundred-fold  by  a  most  becom- 
ing dress,  by  a  thousand  little  coquettish  ways  wliich  nobody 
could  assume  with  a  better  grace,  and  all  tlie  sparkling  expec- 
tation of  that  accursed  party.     It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  Joe 


120  BARNABY  BULGE. 

hated  that  party  wherever  it  was,  and  all  the  other  people  who 
were  going  to  it,  whoever  they  were. 

And  she  hardly  looked  at  him  —  no,  hardly  looked  at  him. 
And  when  the  chair  was  seen  through  the  open  door  coming 
blundering  into  the  work  shop,  she  actually  clapped  her  hands 
and  seemed  glad  to  go.  But  Joe  gave  her  his  arm  —  there 
was  some  comfort  in  that  —  and  handed  her  into  it.  To  see 
her  seat  herself  inside,  with  her  laughing  eyes  brighter  than 
diamonds,  and  her  hand  —  surely  she  had  the  prettiest  hand 
in  the  world  —  on  the  ledge  of  the  open  window,  and  her  little 
finger  provokingly  and  pertly  tilted  up,  as  if  it  wondered  why 
Joe  didn't  squeeze  or  kiss  it !  To  think  how  well  one  or  two 
of  the  modest  snowdrops  would  have  become  that  delicate 
bodice,  and  how  they  were  lying  neglected  outside  the  parlor 
window  !  To  see  how  Miggs  looked  on,  with  a  face  expressive 
of  knowing  how  all  this  loveliness  was  got  up,  and  of  being 
in  the  secret  of  every  string  and  pin  and  hook  and  eye,  and 
of  saying  it  ain't  half  as  real  as  you  think,  and  I  could  look 
quite  as  well  myself  if  I  took  the  pains  !  To  hear  that  pro- 
voking precious  little  scream  when  the  chair  was  hoisted  on 
its  poles,  and  to  catch  that  transient  but  not-to-be-forgotten 
vision  of  the  happy  face  within  —  what  torments  and  aggra- 
vations, and  yet  what  delights  were  these !  The  very  chair- 
men seemed  favored  rivals  as  they  bore  her  down  the 
street. 

There  never  was  such  an  alteration  in  a  small  room  in  a 
small  time  as  in  that  parlor  when  they  went  back  to  finish  tea. 
So  dark,  so  deserted,  so  perfectly  disenchanted.  It  seemed 
such  sheer  nonsense  to  be  sitting  tamely  there,  when  she  was 
at  a  dance  with  more  lovers  than  man  could  calculate  flutter- 
ing about  her  —  with  the  whole  party  doting  on  and  adoring 
her,  and  wanting  to  marry  her.  Miggs  was  hovering  about 
too ;  and  the  fact  of  her  existence,  the  mere  circumstance  of 
her  ever  having  been  born,  appeared,  after  Dolly,  such  an 
unaccountable  practical  joke.  It  was  impossible  to  talk.  It 
couldn't  be  done.  He  had  nothing  left  for  it  but  to  stir  his 
tea  round,  and  round,  and  round,  and  ruminate  on  all  the  fasci- 
nations of  the  locksmith's  lovely  daughter. 

Gabriel  was  dull  too.     It  was  a  part  of  the  certain  uncer- 


BABNABY  liUDGE.  121 

tainty  of  Mrs.  Varden's  temper,  that  wlien  they  were  in  this 
condition,  she  should  be  gay  and  sprightly. 

"I  need  have  a  cheerful  disposition,  I  am  sure,"  said  the 
smiling  housewife,  "to  preserve  any  spirits  at  all;  and  how  I 
do  it  I  can  scarcely  tell." 

"Ah,  mim,"  sighed  Miggs,  "begging  your  pardon  for  the 
interruption,  there  ain't  a  many  like  you." 

"Take  away,  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  rising,  "take 
away,  pray.  I  know  I'm  a  restraint  here,  and  as  I  wish 
everybody  to  enjoy  themselves  as  they  best  can,  I  feel  I 
had  better  go." 

"No,  no,  Martha,"  cried  the  locksmith.  "Stop  here.  I'm 
sure  we  shall  be  very  sorry  to  lose  you,  eh,  Joe  ?  "  Joe  started 
and  said  "  Certainly." 

"  Thank  you,  Varden,  ray  dear,"  returned  his  wife ;  "  but  I 
know  your  wishes  better.  Tobacco  and  beer,  or  spirits,  have 
much  greater  attractions  than  any  /  can  boast  of,  and  there- 
fore' I  shall  go  and  sit  up-stairs  and  look  out  of  window, 
my  love.  Good-night,  Mr.  Joseph.  I'm  very  glad  to  have 
seen  you,  and  only  wish  I  could  have  provided  something 
more  suitable  to  your  taste.  Remember  me  very  kindly, 
if  you  please,  to  old  jNIr.  Willet,  and  tell  him  that  when- 
ever he  comes  here  I  have  a  crow  to  pluck  with  him.  Good- 
night ! " 

Having  uttered  these  words  with  great  sweetness  of  manner, 
the  good  lady  dropped  a  courtesy  remarkable  for  its  conde- 
scension, and  serenely  withdrew. 

And  it  was  for  this  Joe  had  looked  forward  to  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  March  for  weeks  and  weeks,  and  had  gathered  the 
flowers  with  so  much  care,  and  had  cocked  his  hat,  and  made 
himself  so  smart !  This  was  the  end  of  all  his  bold  determi- 
nation, resolved  upon  for  the  hundredth  time,  to  speak  out 
to  Dolly  and  tell  her  how  he  loved  lier !  To  see  her  for  a 
minute  —  for  but  a  minute — to  find  her  going  out  to  a  party 
and  glad  to  go ;  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  common  pipe-smoker, 
beer-bibber,  spirit-guzzler,  and  tosspot !  He  bade  farewell  to 
his  friend  the  locksmith,  and  hastened  to  take  horse  at  the 
Black  Lion,  thinking  as  he  turned  towards  home,  as  many 
another  Joe  has  thought  before  and  since,  that  here  was  an 


122  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

end  to  all  his  hopes  —  that  the  thing  was  impossible  and  never 
could  be — that  she  didn't  care  for  him  — that  he  was  wretched 
for  life  —  and  that  the  only  congenial  prospect  left  him,  was 
to  go  for  a  soldier  or  a  sailor,  and  get  some  obliging  enemy  to 
knock  his  brains  out  as  soon  as  possible. 


BARN  Any  liUDGE.  123 


CHAPTEK    XIV. 

Joe  Willet  rode  leisurely  along  in  his  desponding  mood, 
picturing  the  locksmith's  daughter  going  down  long  country- 
dances,  and  poussetting  dreadfully  with  l)old  strangers  —  which 
was  almost  too  much  to  bear  —  when  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a 
horse's  feet  behind  him,  and  looking  back,  saw  a  well-mounted 
gentleman  advancing  at  a  smart  canter.  As  this  rider  passed, 
he  checked  his  steed,  and  called  him  of  the  ISIaypole  by  his 
name.  Joe  set  spurs  to  the  gray  mare,  and  was  at  his  side 
directly. 

"I  thought  it  was  you,  sir,"  he  said,  touching  his  hat.  "A 
fair  evening,  sir.     Glad  to  see  you  out  of  doors  again." 

The  gentleman  smiled  and  nodded.  "What  gay  doings 
have  been  going  on  to-day,  Joe  ?  Is  she  as  pretty  as  ever  ? 
Nay,  don't  blush,  man." 

"If  I  colored  at  all,  Mr.  Edward,"  said  Joe,  "which  I 
didn't  know  I  did,  it  was  to  think  I  should  have  been  such  a 
fool  as  ever  to  have  any  hope  of  her.  She's  as  far  out  of  my 
reach  as  —  as  Heaven  is." 

"  Well,  Joe,  I  hope  that's  not  altogether  beyond  it,"  said 
Edward,  good-humoredly.     "  Eh  ?  " 

"Ah!"  sighed  Joe.  "It's  all  very  fine  talking,  sir. 
Proverbs  are  easily  made  in  cold  blood.  But  it  can't  be 
helped.     Are  you  bound  for  our  house,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes.  As  I  am  not  quite  strong  yet,  I  shall  stay  there 
to-night,  and  ride  home  coolly  in  the  morning." 

"If  you're  in  no  particular  hurry,"  said  Joe,  after  a  short 
silence,  "and  will  bear  with  the  pace  of  tliis  poor  jade,  I  shall 
be  glad  to  ride  on  with  you  to  the  Warren,  sir,  and  hold  your 
horse  when  you  dismount.  It'll  save  you  having  to  walk 
from  the  Maypole,  there  and  back  again.  I  can  sirdve  the 
time  well,  sir,  for  I  am  too  soon." 


124  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

"And  so  am  I,"  returned  Edward,  "though  I  was  uncon- 
sciously riding  fast  just  now,  in  compliment  I  suppose  to 
the  pace  of  my  thoughts,  which  were  travelling  post.  We 
will  keep  together,  Joe,  willingly,  and  be  as  good  company  as 
may  be.  And  cheer  up,  cheer  up,  think  of  the  locksmith's 
daughter  with  a  stout  heart,  and  you  shall  win  her  yet." 

Joe  shook  his  head ;  but  there  was  something  so  cheery  in 
the  buoyant  hopeful  manner  of  this  speech,  that  his  spirits 
rose  under  its  influence,  and  communicated  as  it  would  seem 
some  new  impulse  even  to  the  gray  mare,  who,  breaking  from 
her  sober  amble  into  a  gentle  trot,  emulated  the  pace  of 
Edw^ard  Chester's  horse,  and  appeared  to  flatter  herself  that 
he  was  doing  his  very  best. 

It  was  a  fine  dry  night,  and  the  light  of  a  young  moon, 
which  was  then  just  rising,  shed  around  that  peacft  and  tran- 
quillity which  gives  to  evening  time  its  most  delicious  charm. 
The  lengthened  shadows  of  the  trees,  softened  as  if  reflected  in 
still  water,  threw  their  carpet  on  the  path  the  travellers  pur- 
sued, and  the  light  wind  stirred  yet  more  softly  than  before, 
as  though  it  were  soothing  Xature  in  her  sleep.  By  little 
and  little  they  ceased  talking,  and  rode  on  side  by  side  in  a 
pleasant  silence. 

"The  Maypole  lights  are  brilliant  to-night,"  said  Edward, 
as  they  rode  along  the  lane  from  which,  while  the  intervening 
trees  were  bare  of  leaves,  that  hostelry  was  visible. 

"  Brilliant  indeed,  sir,"  returned  Joe,  rising  in  his  stirrups 
to  get  a  better  view.  "  Lights  in  the  large  room,  and  a  fire 
glimmering  in  the  best  bedchamber  ?  Why,  what  company 
can  this  be  for,  I  wonder  !  " 

"  Some  benighted  horseman  wending  towards  London,  and 
deterred  from  going  on  to-night  by  the  marvellous  tales  of 
my  friend  the  highwayman,  I  suppose,"  said  Edward. 

"  He  must  be  a  horseman  of  good  quality  to  have  such 
accommodations.     Your  bed  too,  sir!  "  — 

"No  matter,  Joe.  An}^  other  room  will  do  for  me.  But 
come  —  there's  nine  striking.     We  may  push  on." 

They  cantered  forward  at  as  brisk  a  pace  as  Joe's  charger 
could  attain,  and  presently  stopped  in  the  little  copse  where 
he  had  left  her  in  the  morning.     Edward  dismounted,  gave  his 


liAnXAIiV  liUDGE.  125 

bridle  to  his  companion,  and  walked  witli  a  light  stop  towards 
the  honse. 

A  female  servant  was  waiting  at  a  side  gate  in  the  garden- 
wall,  and  admitted  him  witliout  delay.  He  hurried  along  the 
terrace-walk,  and  darted  up  a  flight  of  broad  steps  leading 
into  an  old  and  gloomy  liall,  whose  walls  were  ornamented 
with  rusty  suits  of  armor,  antlers,  weapons  of  tlie  cliase,  and 
such  like  garniture.  Here  he  paused,  but  not  long ;  for  as  he 
looked  round,  as  if  expecting  the  attendant  to  have  followed, 
and  wondering  she  had  not  done  so,  a  lovely  girl  appeared, 
whose  dark  hair  next  moment  rested  on  his  breast.  Almost 
at  the  same  instant  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon  her  arm, 
Edward  felt  himself  thrust  away,  and  Mr.  Haredale  stood 
between  them. 

He  regarded  the  young  man  sternly  without  removing  his 
hat ;  with  one  hand  clasped  his  niece,  and  with  the  other,  in 
which  he  held  his  riding-whij),  motioned  him  towards  the 
door.  The  young  man  drew  hiuiself  up,  and  returned  his 
gaze. 

"  This  is  well  done  of  you,  sir,  to  corrupt  my  servants,  and 
enter  my  house  unbidden  and  in  secret,  like  a  thief  !  "  said 
Mr.  Haredale.     "  Leave  it,  sir,  and  return  no  more." 

"Miss  Haredale's  presence,"  returned  the  young  man,  "and 
your  relationship  to  her,  give  you  a  license,  which,  if  you  are 
a  brave  man,  you  will  not  abuse.  You  have  comj^elled  me  to 
this  course,  and  the  fault  is  yours  —  not  mine." 

"It  is  neither  generous,  nor  honorable,  nor  the  act  of  a 
true  man,  sir,"  retorted  the  other,  "  to  tamper  witli  tlie  affec- 
tions of  a  weak,  trusting  girl,  while  you  slirink,  in  your 
unworthiness,  from  her  guardian  and  protector,  and  dare  not 
meet  the  light  of  day.  More  than  tliis  I  will  not  say  to  you, 
save  that  I  forbid  you  this  house,  and  rt'cpiire  you  to  be 
gone." 

"It  is  neither  generous,  nor  honorable,  nor  tlie  act  of  a 
true  man  to  play  the  spy,"  said  Edward.  "  Your  words  imply 
dishonor,  and  T  reject  them  with  the  scorn  they  merit." 

"  You  will  find,"  said  INIr.  Haredale,  calmly,  "your  trusty 
go-between  in  waiting  at  the  gate  l>y  which  you  entered.  I 
have  played  no  spy's  i)art,  sir.      I  chanced  to  see  you  pass  the 


126  B  A  UNA  BY  BUDGE. 

gate  and  followed.  You  might  have  heard  me  knocking  for 
admission,  had  you  been  less  swift  of  foot,  or  lingered  in  the 
garden.  Please  to  withdraw.  Your  presence  here  is  offensive 
to  me  and  distressful  to  my  niece."  As  he  said  these  words, 
he  passed  his  arm  about  the  waist  of  the  terrified  and  weeping 
girl,  and  drew  her  closer  to  him ;  and  though  the  habitual 
severity  of  his  manner  was  scarcely  changed,  there  was  yet 
apparent  in  the  action  an  air  of  kindness  and  sympathy  for 
her  distress. 

"Mr.  Haredale,"  said  Edward,  "your  arm  encircles  her  on 
whom  I  have  set  my  every  hope  and  thought,  and  to  purchase 
one  minute's  happiness  for  whom  I  would  gladly  lay  down  my 
life;  this  house  is  the  casket  that  holds  the  precious  jewel  of 
my  existence.  Your  niece  has  plighted  her  faith  to  me,  and 
I  have  plighted  mine  to  her.  What  have  I  done  that  you 
should  hold  me  in  this  light  esteem,  and  give  me  these  dis- 
courteous words  ?  " 

"You  have  done  that,  sir,"  answered  Mr.  Haredale,  "which 
must  be  undone.  You  have  tied  a  lover's-knot  here  which 
must  be  cut  asunder.  Take  good  heed  of  what  I  say.  IVtust. 
I  cancel  the  bond  between  ye.  I  reject  you,  and  all  of  your 
kith  and  kin  —  all  the  false,  hollow,  heartless  stock." 

"  High  words,  sir,"  said  Edward,  scornfully. 

"^Vords  of  purpose  and  meaning,  as  you  will  find," 
replied  the  other.     "'  Lay  them  to  heart." 

"Lay  you  then,  these,"  said  Edward.  "Your  cold  and 
sullen  temper,  which  chills  every  breast  about  you,  which 
turns  affection  into  fear,  and  changes  duty  into  dread,  has 
forced  us  on  this  secret  course,  repugnant  to  our  nature  and 
our  wish,  and  far  more  foreign,  sir,  to  us  than  you.  I  am  not 
a  false,  a  hollow,  or  a  heartless  man ;  the  character  is 
yours,  who  poorly  venture  on  these  injurious  terms,  against 
the  truth,  and  under  the  shelter  whereof  I  reminded  you  just 
now.  You  shall  not  cancel  the  bond  between  us.  I  will  not 
abandon  this  pursuit.  I  rely  upon  your  niece's  truth  and 
honor,  and  set  your  influence  at  naught.  I  leave  her  with  a 
confidence  in  her  pure  faith,  which  you  will  never  weaken, 
and  with  no  concern  but  that  I  do  not  leave  her  in  some 
gentler  care." 


^-fed 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  127 

With  that,  he  pressed  her  cold  hand  to  his  lips,  and  once 
more  encountering  and  returning  Mr.  Haredale's  steady  look, 
withdrew. 

A  few  words  to  Joe  as  he  mounted  his  horse  sufficiently 
explained  what  had  passed,  and  renewed  all  that  young 
gentleman's  despondency  with  tenfold  aggravation.  They 
rode  back  to  the  Maypole  without  exchanging  a  syllable,  and 
arrived  at  the  door  with  heavy  hearts. 

Old  John,  who  had  peeped  from  behind  the  red  curtain  as 
they  rode  up  shouting  for  Hugh,  was  out  directly,  and  said 
with  great  importance  as  he  held  the  young  man's  stirrup,  — 

"He's  comfortable  in  bed  —  the  best  bed.  A  thorough 
gentleman ;  the  smilingest,  affablest  gentleman  I  ever  had  to 
do  with." 

"  Who,  Willet  ?  "  said  Edward  carelessly,  as  he  dismounted. 

"Your  worthy  father,  sir,"  replied  John.  "Your  honor- 
able, venerable,  father." 

•"  What  does  he  mean  ?  "  said  Edward,  looking  with  a  mix- 
ture of  alarm  and  doubt  at  Joe. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  said  Joe.  "  Don't  you  see  Mr. 
Edward  doesn't  understand,  father  ?  " 

"  Why,  didn't  you  know  of  it,  sir  ?  "  said  John,  opening 
his  eyes  wide.  "  How  very  singular !  Bless  you,  he's  been 
here  ever  since  noon  to-day,  and  Mr.  Haredale  has  been 
having  a  long  talk  with  him,  and  hasn't  been  gone  an 
hour." 

"My  father,  Willet!" 

"Yes,  sir,  he  told  me  so  —  a  handsome,  slim,  upright 
gentleman,  in  green  and  gold.  In  your  old  room  up  yonder, 
sir.  No  doubt  you  can  go  in,  sir,"  said  John,  walking 
backwards  into  the  road  and  looking  up  at  the  window. 
"  He  hasn't  put  out  his  candles  yet,  I  see." 

Edward  glanced  at  the  window  also,  and  hastily  murmuring 
that  he  had  changed  his  mind  —  forgotten  something  —  and 
must  return  to  London,  mounted  his  horse  again  and  rode 
away ;  leaving  the  Willets,  father  and  son,  looking  at  each 
other  in  mute  astonishment. 


128  BAIi^\^BY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTEE   XV. 

At  noon  next  day,  John  Willet's  guest  sat  lingering  over 
his  breakfast  in  his  own  home,  surrounded  by  a  variety  of 
comforts,  which  left  the  Maypole's  highest  flight  and  utmost 
stretch  of  accommodation  at  an  infinite  distance  behind,  and 
suggested  comparisons  very  much  to  the  disadvantage  and 
disfavor  of  that  venerable  tavern. 

In  the  broad  old-fashioned  window-seat  —  as  capacious  as 
many  modern  sofas,  and  cushioned  to  serve  the  purpose  of  a 
luxurious  settee  —  in  the  broad  old-fashioned  window-seat  of 
a  roomy  chamber,  Mr.  Chester  lounged,  very  much  at  his  ease, 
over  a  well-furnished  breakfast-table.  He  had  exchanged  his 
riding-coat  for  a  handsome  morning-gown,  his  boots  for 
slippers ;  had  been  at  great  pains  to  atone  for  the  having  been 
obliged  to  make  his  toilet  when  he  rose  without  the  aid  of  a 
dressing-case  and  tiring  equipage ;  and,  having  gradually  for- 
gotten through  these  means  the  discomforts  of  an  indifferent 
night  and  an  early  ride,  was  in  a  state  of  perfect  complacency, 
indolence,  and  satisfaction. 

The  situation  in  which  he  found  himself,  indeed,  was 
particularly  favorable  to  the  growth  of  these  feelings;  for 
not  to  mention  the  lazy  influence  of  a  late  and  lonely  break- 
fast, with  the  additional  sedative  of  a  newspaper,  there  was 
an  air  of  repose  about  his  place  of  residence  peculiar  to  it- 
self, and  which  hangs  about  it,  even  in  these  times,  when  it  is 
more  bustling  and  busy  than  it  was  in  days  of  yore. 

There  are,  still,  worse  places  than  the  Temple,  on  a  sultry 
day,  for  basking  in  the  sun,  or  resting  idly  in  the  shade. 
There  is  yet  a  drowsiness  in  its  courts,  and  a  dreamy  dulness 
in  its  trees  and  gardens ;  those  who  pace  its  lanes  and  squares 
may  yet  hear  the  echoes  of  their  footsteps  on  the  sounding 
stones,  and  read  upon  its  gates,  in  passing  from  the  tumult  of 
the   Strand  or  Fleet  Street,  "  Who  enters  here  leaves  noise 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  129 

behind."  There  is  still  the  plash  of  falling  water  in  fair 
Fountain  Court,  and  there  are  yet  nooks  and  corners  where 
dun-haunted  students  may  look  down  from  their  dusty  garrets, 
on  a  vagrant. ray  of  sunlight  patching  the  shade  of  the  tall 
houses,  and  seldom  troubled  to  reflect  a  passing  stranger's 
form.  There  is  yet,  in  the  Temple,  something  of  a  clerkly 
monkish  atmosphere,  which  public  offices  of  law  have  not 
disturbed,  and  even  legal  firms  have  failed  to  scare  away.  In 
summer-time,  its  pumps  suggest  to  thirsty  idlers,  springs 
cooler  and  more  sparkling,  and  deeper  than  other  wells ; 
and  as  they  trace  the  s])illings  of  full  pitchers  on  the  heated 
ground,  they  snuff  the  freshness,  and,  sighing,  cast  sad  looks 
towards  the  Thames,  and  think  of  baths  and  boats,  and 
saunter  on  despondent. 

It  was  in  a  room  in  Paper  Buildings  —  a  row  of  goodly 
tenements,  shaded  in  front  by  ancient  trees,  and  looking,  at 
the  back,  upon  the  Temple  gardens  —  that  this,  our  idler, 
louliged  ;  now  taking  up  again  the  paper  he  had  laid  down  a 
hundred  times  ;  now  trifling  with  the  fragments  of  his  meal ; 
now  pulling  forth  his  golden  toothpick,  and  glancing  leisurely 
about  the  room,  or  out  at  window  into  the  trim  garden  walks, 
where  a  few  early  loiterers  were  already  pacing  to  and  fro. 
Here  a  pair  of  lovers  met  to  quarrel  and  make  up ;  there  a 
dark-eyed  nursery-maid  had  better  eyes  for  Templars  than  her 
charge  ;  on  this  hand  an  ancient  spinster,  with  her  lapdog  in 
a  string,  regarded  both  enormities  with  scornful  sidelong 
looks ;  on  that  a  weazen  old  gentleman,  ogling  the  nursery- 
maid, looked  with  like  scorn  upon  the  spinster,  and  wondered 
she  didn't  know  she  was  no  longer  young.  Apart  from  all 
these,  on  the  river's  margin  two  or  three  couple  of  business- 
talkers  walked  slowly  up  and  down  in  earnest  conversation : 
and  one  young  man  sat  thoughtfully  on  a  bench,  alone. 

''  Xed  is  amazingly  patient !  "  said  j\Ir.  Chester,  glancing  at 
this  last-named  person  as  he  sat  down  his  teacup  and  plied 
the  golden  toothpick,  "  immensely  patient !  He  was  sitting 
yonder  when  I  began  to  dress,  and  has  scarcely  changed  his 
posture  since.     A  most  eccentric  dog  !  " 

As  he  spoke  the  figure  rose,  and  came  towards  him  with  a 
rapid  pace. 


130  BARXABT  BUDGE. 

"  Really,  as  if  he  had  heard  me,"  said  the  father,  resuming 
his  newspaper  with  a  yawn.     "  Dear  Ned !  " 

Presently  the  room-door  opened,  and  the  young  man  en- 
tered ;  to  whom  his  father  gently  waved  his  hand,  and  smiled. 

"  Are  you  at  leisure  for  a  little  conversation,  sir  ?  "  said 
Edward. 

"  Surely,  Ned.  I  am  always  at  leisure.  You  know  my  con- 
stitution. —  Have  you  breakfasted  ?  " 

"Three  hours  ago." 

"  What  a  very  early  dog  !  "  cried  his  father,  contemplating 
him  from  behind  the  toothpick,  with  a  languid  smile. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Edward,  bringing  a  chair  forward, 
and  seating  himself  near  the  table,  "  that  I  slept  but  ill  last 
night,  and  was  glad  to  rise.  The  cause  of  my  uneasiness 
cannot  but  be  known  to  3'ou,  sir  ;  and  it  is  upon  that,  I  wish 
to  speak.'- 

"  My  dear  boy,"  returned  his  father,  "  confide  in  me,  I  beg. 
But  you  know  my  constitution  —  don't  be  prosy,  Ned." 

"  I  will  be  plain  and  brief,"  said  Edward. 

"  Don't  say  you  will,  my  good  fellow,"  returned  his  father, 
crossing  his  legs,  "  or  you  certainly  will  not.  You  are  going 
to  tell  me"  — 

"Plainly  this  then,"  said  the  son  with  an  air  of  great 
concern,  "  that  I  know  where  you  were  last  night  —  from 
being  on  the  spot,  indeed  —  and  whom  you  saw,  and  what 
your  purpose  was." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  cried  his  father.  "  I  am  delighted  to 
hear  it^  It  saves  us  the  worry,  and  terrible  wear  and  tear  of 
a  long  explanation,  and  is  a  great  relief  for  both.  At  the 
very  house  !  Why  didn't  you  come  up  ?  I  should  have  been 
charmed  to  see  you." 

"  I  knew  that  what  I  had  to  say  would  be  better  said  after 
a  night's  reflection,  when  both  of  us  were  cool,"  returned  the 
son. 

"  'Fore  Gad,  Ned,"  rejoined  the  father,  "  I  was  cool  enough 
last  night.  That  detestable  Maypole  !  By  some  infernal 
contrivance  of  the  builder,  it  holds  the  wind  and  keeps  it 
fresh.  You  remember  the  sharp  east  wind  that  blew  so  hard 
five  weeks  ago  ?     I  give  you  my  honor  it  was  rampant  in  that 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  131 

old  house  last  night,  though  out  of  doors  there  was  a  dead 
calm.     But  you  were  saying  "  — 

"  I  was  about  to  say,  Heaven  knows  how  seriously  and 
earnestly,  that  you  have  made  me  wretched,  sir.  Will  you 
hear  me  gravely  for  a  moment  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Ned,"  said  his  father,  "  I  will  hear  you  with  the 
patience  of  an  anchorite.     Oblige  me  with  the  milk." 

"  I  saw  Miss  Haredale  last  night,"  Edward  resumed,  when 
he  had  complied  with  this  request ;  "  her  uncle,  in  her  pres- 
ence, immediately  after  your  interview,  and,  as  of  course  I 
know,  in  consequence  of  it,  forbade  me  the  house,  and,  with 
circumstances  of  indignity  which  are  of  your  creation  I  am 
sure,  commanded  me  to  leave  it  on  the  instant." 

"  For  his  manner  of  doing  so,  I  give  you  my  honor,  Ned, 
I  am  not  accountable,"  said  his  father.  "  That  you  must 
excuse.  He  is  a  mere  boor,  a  log,  a  brute,  Avith  no  address 
in  life.  —  Positively  a  fly  in  the  jug.  The  first  I  have  seen 
this-  year." 

Edward  rose,  and  paced  tlie  room.  His  imperturbable 
parent'  sipped  his  tea. 

"Father,"  said  the  young  man,  stopping  at  length  before 
him,  "  we  must  not  trifle  in  this  matter.  We  must  not 
deceive  each  other,  or  ourselves.  Let  me  pursue  the  manly 
open  part,  I  wish  to  take,  and  do  not  repel  me  by  this  unkind 
indifference." 

"  Whether  I  am  indifferent  or  no,"  returned  the  other,  "  I 
leave  you,  my  dear  boy,  to  judge.  A  ride  of  twenty-five  or 
thirty  miles,  through  miry  roads  —  a  Ma^qoole  dinner  —  a 
tete-a-tete  with  Haredale,  which,  vanity  apart,  was  quite  a 
Valentine  and  Orson  business — a  IMaypole  bed  —  a  INIaypole 
landlord,  and  a  Maypole  retinue  of  idiots  and  centaurs;  — 
whether  the  voluntary  endurance  of  these  things  looks  like 
indifference,  dear  Ned,  or  like  the  excessive  anxiety,  and  devo- 
tion, and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  of  a  parent,  you  shall  deter- 
mine for  yourself." 

"I  wish  you  to  consider,  sir,"  said  Edward,  "in  what 
a  cruel  situation  I  am  placed.  Loving  ]\Iiss  Haredale  as 
I  do  "  — 

"j\ry  dear  feHow,"  interrupted  his  fatlier  witli  a   conipas- 


132  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

sionate  smile,  "you  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  You  don't 
know  anything  about  it.  There's  no  such  thing,  I  assure 
you.  Now,  do  take  my  word  for  it.  You  have  good  sense, 
Ned,  — great  good  sense.  I  wonder  you  should  be  guilty  of 
such  amazing  absurdities.     You  really  surprise  me." 

''  I  repeat,"  said  his  son  firmly,  "  that  I  love  her.  You  have 
interposed  to  part  us,  and  have,  to  the  extent  I  have  just  now 
told  you  of,  succeeded.  INFay  I  induce  you,  sir,  in  time,  to  think 
more  favorably  of  our  attachment,  or  is  it  your  intention  and 
your  fixed  design  to  hold  us  asunder  if  you  can  ?  " 

"  ^[y  dear  Ned,"  returned  his  father,  taking  a  pinch  of 
snuff  and  pushing  his  box  towards  him,  "  that  is  my  purpose 
most  undoubtedly." 

"  The  time  that  has  elapsed,"  rejoined  his  son,  "  since  I 
began  to  know  her  worth,  has  flown  in  such  a  dream  that 
until  now  I  have  hardly  once  paused  to  reflect  upon  my  true 
position.  What  is  it  ?  From  my  childhood  I  have  been 
accustomed  to  luxury  and  idleness,  and  have  been  bred  as 
though  my  fortune  were  large,  and  my  expectations  almost 
without  a  limit.  The  idea  of  wealth  has  been  familiarized  to 
me  from  my  cradle.  I  have  been  taught  to  look  upon  those 
means,  by  which  men  raise  themselves  to  riches  and  distinc- 
tion, as  being  beyond  my  heeding,  and  beneath  my  care.  I 
have  been,  as  the  phrase  is,  liberally  educated,  and  am  fit  for 
nothing.  I  find  myself  at  last  wholly  dependent  upon  you, 
with  no  resource  but  in  your  favor.  In  this  momentous  ques- 
tion of  my  life  we  do  not,  and  it  would  seem,  we  never  can, 
agree.  I  have  shrunk  instinctively  alike  from  those  to  whom 
you  have  urged  me  to  pay  court,  and  from  the  motives  of 
interest  and  gain  which  have  rendered  them  in  your  eyes 
visible  objects  for  my  suit.  If  there  never  has  been  thus 
much  plain-speaking  between  us  before,  sir,  the  fault  has  not 
been  mine,  indeed.  If  I  seem  to  speak  too  plainly  now,  it  is, 
believe  me,  father,  in  the  hope  that  there  may  be  a  franker 
spirit,  a  worthier  reliance,  and  a  kinder  confidence  between  us 
in  time  to  come." 

"My  good  fellow,"  said  his  smiling  father,  "you  quite 
affect  me.  Go  on,  my  dear  Edward,  I  beg.  But  remember 
your  promise.     There   is   great   earnestness,    vast  candor,  a 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  133 

manifest  sincerity  in  all  you  say,  but  I  fear  I  observe  the 
faintest  indications  of  a  tendency  to  prose." 
"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  too,  Ned,  but  you  know  that  I  cannot  fix 
my  mind  for  any  long  period  upon  one  subject.  If  you'll 
come  to  the  point  at  once,  I'll  imagine  all  that  ought  to  go 
before,  and  conclude  it  said.  Oblige  me  with  the  milk  again. 
Listening  invariably  makes  me  feverish." 

"What  I  would  say  then,  tends  to  this,"  said  Edward.  "I 
cannot  bear  this  absolute  dependence,  sir,  even  upon  you. 
Time  has  been  lost  and  opportunity  thrown  away,  but  I  am 
yet  a  young  man,  and  may  retrieve  it.  Will  you  give  me  the 
means  of  devoting  such  abilities  and  energies  as  I  possess, 
to  some  worthy  pursuit  ?  Will  you  let  me  try  to  make  for 
myself  an  honorable  path  in  life  ?  For  any  term  you  please 
to  name  —  say  for  five  years  if  you  will  —  I  will  pledge  myself 
to  move  no  further  in  the  matter  of  our  difference  without 
your  full  concurrence.  '  During  that  period,  I  will  endeavor 
earnestly  and  patiently,  if  ever  man  did,  to  open  some  pros- 
pect for  myself,  and  free  you  from  the  burden  you  fear  I 
should  become  if  I  married  one  whose  worth  and  beauty  are 
her  chief  endowments.)  Will  you  do  this,  sir?  At  the  ex- 
piration of  the  term  we  agree  upon,  let  us  discuss  this  subject 
again.  Till  then,  unless  it  is  revived  by  you,  let  it  never  be 
renewed  between  us." 

"My  dear  Ned,"  returned  his  father,  laying  down  the 
newspaper  at  which  he  had  been  glancing  carelessly,  and 
throwing  himself  back  in  the  window-seat,  "I  believe  you 
know  how  very  much  I  dislike  what  are  called  family  affairs, 
which  are  only  fit  for  plebeian  Christmas  days,  and  have  no 
manner  of  business  with  people  of  our  condition.  But  as  you 
are  proceeding  upon  a  mistake,  Ned  — altogether  upon  a  mis- 
take—I will  conquer  my  repugnance  to  entering  on  such 
matters,  and  give  you  a  perfectly  plain  and  candid  answer,  if 
you  will  do  me  the  favor  to  shut  the  door." 

Edward  having  obeyed  him,  he  took  an  elegant  little  knife 
from  his  pocket,  and  paring  his  nails,  continued,  — 

"You  have  to  thank  me,  Ned,  for  being  of  good  family; 
for  your  mother,  charming  person  as   she  was,   and  almost 


134  BARXABT  RUDGE. 

broken-hearted,  and  so  forth,  as  she  left  me,  when  she  was 
prematurely  compelled  to  become  immortal  —  had  nothing  to 
boast  of  in  tliat  respect." 

"  Her  father  was  at  least  an  eminent  lawyer,  sir,"  said 
Edward. 

"  Quite  right,  Ned  ;  perfectly  so.  He  stood  high  at  the 
bar,  had  a  great  name  and  great  wealth,  but  having  risen 
from  nothing  —  I  have  always  closed  my  eyes  to  the  circum- 
stance and  steadily  resisted  its  contemplation,  but  I  fear  his 
father  dealt  in  pork,  and  that  his  business  did  once  involve 
cowheel  and  sausages  —  he  wished  to  marry  his  daughter  into 
a  good  family.  He  had  his  heart's  desire,  Ned.  I  was  a 
younger  son's  younger  son,  and  I  married  her.  We  each  liad 
our  object,  and  gained  it.  She  stepped  at  once  into  the 
politest  and  best  circles,  and  I  stepped  into  a  fortune  which  I 
assure  you  was  very  necessary  to  my  comfort  —  quite  indis- 
pensable. Now,  my  good  fellow,  that  fortune  is  among  the 
things  that  have  been.  It  is  gone,  Ned,  and  has  been  gone  — 
how  old  are  you  ?     I  always  forget." 

"Seven  and  twenty,  sir." 

"Are  you  indeed  ?  "  cried  his  father,  raising  his  eyelids  in 
a  languishing  surprise.  "  So  much !  Then  I  should  say, 
Ned,  that  as  nearly  as  I  remember,  its  skirts  vanished  from 
human  knowledge,  about  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  ago.  It 
was  about  that  time  when  I  came  to  live  in  these  chambers 
(once  your  grandfather's,  and  bequeathed  by  that  extremely 
respectable  person  to  me),  and  commenced  to  live  upon  an 
inconsiderable  annuit}^  and  my  past  reputation." 

"You  are  jesting  with  me,  sir,"  said  Edward. 

"  Not  in  the  slightest  degree,  I  assure  you,"  returned  his 
father  with  great  composure.  "These  family  topics  are  so 
extremely  dry,  that  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  don't  admit  of  any 
such  relief.  It  is  for  that  reason,  and  because  they  have  an 
appearance  of  business,  that  I  dislike  them  so  very  much. 
Well !  You  know  the  rest.  A  son,  Ned,  unless  he  is  old 
enough  to  be  a  companion  —  that  is  to  say,  unless  he  is  some 
two  or  three  and  twenty  —  is  not  the  kind  of  thing  to  have 
about  one.  He  is  a  restraint  upon  his  father,  his  father  is  a 
restraint  upon  him,  and  they  make  each  other  mutually  un- 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  135 

comfortable.  Therefore,  until  within  the  last  four  years  or 
so  —  I  have  a  poor  memory  for  dates,  and  if  I  mistake,  you 
will  correct  me  in  your  own  mind  —  you  pursued  your  studies 
at  a  distance,  and  picked  up  a  great  variety  of  accomplish- 
ments. Occasionally  we  passed  a  week  or  two  together  here, 
and  disconcerted  each  other  as  only  such  near  relations  can. 
At  last  you  came  home.  I  candidly  tell  you,  my  dear  boy, 
that  if  you  had  been  awkward  and  overgrown,  I  should  have 
exported  you  to  some  distant  part  of  the  world." 

"  I  wish  with  all  my  soul  you  had,  sir,"  said  Edward. 

"No,  you  don't,  Xed,"  rejoined  his  father  coolly;  "you 
are  mistaken,  I  assure  you.  I  found  you  a  handsome,  pre- 
possessing, elegant  fellow,  and  I  threw  you  into  the  society  I 
can  still  command.  Having  done  that,  my  dear  fellow,  I 
consider  that  I  have  provided  for  you  in  life,  and  rely  on  your 
doing  something  to  provide  for  me  in  return." 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  meaning,  sir." 

"  My  meaning,  Ned,  is  obvious  —  I  observe  another  fly  in 
the  cream-jug,  but  have  the  goodness  not  to  take  it  out  as 
you  did  the  first,  for  their  walk  when  their  legs  are  milky,  is 
extremely  ungraceful  and  disagreeable  —  ni}'  meaning  is,  that 
you  must  do  as  I  did  ;  that  you  must  marry  well  and  make 
the  most  of  yourself." 

"  A  mere  fortune-hunter  !  "  cried  the  son,  indignantly. 

"  What  in  the  devil's  name,  Ned,  would  you  be  ! "  returned 
the  father.  "  All  men  are  fortune-hunters,  are  they  not  ? 
The  law,  the  church,  the  court,  the  camp  —  see  how  they  are 
all  crowded  with  fortune-hunters,  jostling  each  other  in  the 
pursuit.  The  Stock-excluuige,  the  pul})it,  the  counting-house, 
the  royal  drawing-room,  the  Senate,  —  what  but  fortune- 
hunters  are  they  filled  with  ?  A  fortune-hunter !  Yes.  You 
are  one;  and  you  would  be  nothing  else,  my  dear  Ned,  if  you 
were  the  greatest  courtier,  lawyer,  legislator,  prelate,  or  mer- 
chant, in  existence.  If  you  are  squeamisli  and  moral,  Ned, 
console  yourself  with  the  reflection  that  at  the  worst  your 
fortune-hunting  can  make  but  one  |)ersoii  miserable  or 
unliapj)y.  How  many  people  do  you  suppose  these  other 
kinds  of  huntsmen  crush  in  following  their  sport —  hundreds 
at  a  step  ?     Or  thousands  ?  " 


136  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

The  young  man  leant  his  head  upon  his  hand,  and  made  no 
answer. 

^^  I  am  quite  charmed,"  said  the  father  rising,  and  walking 
slowly  to  and  fro  —  stopping  now  and  then  to  glance  at  him- 
self in  a  mirror,  or  survey  a  picture  through  his  glass,  with 
the  air  of  a  connoisseur,  "  that  we  have  had  this  conversation, 
Ned,  unpromising  as  it  was.  It  establishes  a  confidence 
between  us  which  is  quite  delightful,  and  was  certainly 
necessary,  though  how  you  can  ever  have  mistaken  our  posi- 
tion and  designs,  I  confess  I  cannot  understand.  I  conceived, 
until  I  found  your  fancy  for  this  girl,  that  all  these  points 
were  tacitly  agreed  upon  between  us." 

"I  knew  you  were  embarrassed,  sir,"  returned  the  son,  rais- 
ing his  head  for  a  moment,  and  then  falling  into  his  former 
attitude,  "  but  I  had  no  idea  we  were  the  beggared  wretches 
you  describe.  How  could  I  suppose  it,  bred  as  I  have  been  ; 
witnessing  the  life  you  have  always  led ;  and  the  appearance 
you  have  always  made  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  father —  "  for  you  really  talk  so 
like  a  child  that  I  must  call  you  one  —  you  were  bred  upon  a 
careful  principle  ;  the  very  manner  of  your  education,  I  assure 
you,  maintained  my  credit  surprisingly.  As  to  the  life  I  lead, 
I  must  lead  it,  Ned.  I  must  have  these  little  refinements 
about  me.  I  have  always  been  used  to  them,  and  I  cannot 
exist  without  them.  They  must  surround  me,  you  observe, 
and  therefore  they  are  here.  With  regard  to  our  circum- 
stances, Ned,  you  may  set  your  mind  at  rest  upon  that  score. 
They  are  desperate.  Your  own  appearance  is  by  no  means 
despicable,  and  our  joint  pocket-money  alone  devours  our 
income.     That's  the  truth." 

"  Why  have  I  never  known  this  before  ?  W^hy  have  you 
encouraged  me,  sir,  to  an  expenditure  and  mode  of  life  to 
which  we  have  no  right  or  title  ?  " 

"  My  good  fellow,"  returned  his  father  more  compassion- 
ately than  ever,  "  if  you  made  no  appearance  how  could  you 
possibly  succeed  in  the  pursuit  for  which  I  destined  you  ?  As 
to  oiir  mode  of  life,  every  man  has  a  right  to  live  in  the  best 
way  he  can  ;  and  to  make  himself  as  comfortable  as  he  can, 
or  he  is  an  unnatural  scoundrel.     Our  debts,  I  grant,  are  very 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  137 

great,  and  therefore  it  the  more  behooves  you,  as  a  young  man 
of  principle  and  honor,  to  pay  them  off  as  speedily  as  possible." 

"The  villain's  part,"  muttered  Edward,  "that  I  have  uncon- 
sciously played  !  I  to  win  the  heart  of  Emma  Haredale  !  I 
would,  for  her  sake,  I  had  died  lirst ! " 

"  I  am  glad  you  see,  Ned,"  returned  his  father,  "  how  per- 
fectly self-evident  it  is,  that  nothing  can  be  done  in  that 
quarter.  But  apart  from  this,  and  the  necessity  of  your 
speedily  bestowing  yourself  in  another  (as  you  know  you 
could  to-morrow,  if  you  chose),  I  wish  you'd  look  upon  it 
pleasantly.  In  a  religious  point  of  view  alone,  how  could  you 
ever  think  of  uniting  yourself  to  a  Catholic,  unless  she  was 
amazingly  rich  ?  You  who  ought  to  be  so  very  Protestant, 
coming  of  such  a  Protestant  family  as  you  do.  Let  us  be 
moral,  Ned,  or  we  are  nothing.  Even  if  one  could  set  tliat 
objection  aside,  which  is  impossible,  we  come  to  another  which 
is  quite  conclusive.  The  very  idea  of  marrying  a  girl  whose 
father  was  killed,  like  meat !  Good  God,  Ned,  how  disagree- 
able !  Consider  the  impossibility  of  having  any  respect  for 
your  father-in-law  under  such  unpleasant  circumstances  — 
think  of  his  having  been  'viewed'  by  jurors,  and  'sat  upon' 
by  coroners,  and  of  his  very  doubtful  position  in  the  family 
ever  afterwards.  It  seems  to  me  such  an  indelicate  sort  of 
thing  that  I  really  think  the  girl  ought  to  have  been  put  to 
death  by  the  state  to  prevent  its  happening.  But  I  tease  you 
perhaps.  You  would  rather  be  alone  ?  ]\[y  dear  Ned,  most 
willingly.  God  bless  you.  I  shall  be  going  out  presently, 
but  we  shall  meet  to-night,  or  if  not  to-night,  certainly  to- 
morrow. Take  care  of  yourself  in  the  mean  time  for  both  our 
sakes.  You  are  a  person  of  great  consequence  to  me,  Ned  — 
of  vast  consequence  indeed  !     God  bless  you  !  " 

With  these  words,  the  father,  who  had  been  arranging  his 
cravat  in  the  glass,  while  he  uttered  them  in  a  disconnected 
careless  manner,  withdrew,  humming  a  tune  as  he  went.  The 
son,  who  had  appeared  so  lost  in  thought  as  not  to  hear  or 
understand  them,  remained  quite  still  and  silent.  After  the 
lapse  of  half  an  hour  or  so,  the  elder  Cliester,  gayly  dressed, 
went  out.  The  younger  still  sat  with  his  head  resting  on  his 
hands,  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  kind  of  stupor. 


138  BAHNABY  BULGE. 


CHAPTEE   XVI. 

A  SERIES  of  pictures  representing  the  streets  of  London  in 
the  night,  even  at  the  comparatively  recent  date  of  this  tale, 
would  present  to  the  eye  something  so  ver}^  different  in  char- 
acter from  the  reality  which  is  witnessed  in  these  times,  that 
it  would  be  difficult  for  the  beholder  to  recognize  his  most 
familiar  walks  in  the  altered  asj^ect  of  little  more  than  half  a 
century  ago. 

They  were,  one  and  all,  from  the  broadest  and  best  to  the 
narrowest  and  least  frequented,  very  dark.  The  oil  and  cot- 
ton lamps,  though  regularly  trimmed  twice  or  thrice  in  the 
long  winter  nights,  burnt  feebly  at  the  best ;  and  at  a  late 
hour,  when  they  were  unassisted  by  the  lamps  and  candles  in 
the  shops,  cast  but  a  narrow  track  of  doubtful  light  upon  the 
footway,  leaving  the  projecting  doors  and  house-fronts  in  the 
deepest  gloom.  Many  of  the  courts  and  lanes  were  left  in 
total  darkness ;  those  of  the  meaner  sort,  where  one  glimmer- 
ing light  twinkled  for  a  score  of  houses,  being  favored  in  no 
slight  degree.  Even  in  these  places,  the  inhabitants  had 
often  good  reason  for  extinguishing  their  lamp  as  soon  as 
it  was  lighted;  and  the  watch  being  utterly  inefficient  and 
powerless  to  prevent  them,  they  did  so  at  their  pleasure. 
Thus,  in  the  lightest  thoroughfares,  there  was  at  every  turn 
some  obscure  and  dangerous  spot  whither  a  thief  might  fly 
for  shelter,  and  few  would  care  to  follow ;  and  the  city  being 
belted  round  by  fields,  green  lanes,  waste  grounds,  and  lonely 
roads,  dividing  it  at  that  time  from  the  suburbs  that  have 
joined  it  since,  escape,  even  where  the  pursuit  was  hot,  was 
rendered  easy. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  with  these  favoring  circumstances  in 
full  and  constant  operation,  street  robberies,  often  accompanied 
by  cruel  wounds,  and  not  unfrequently  by  loss  of  life,  should 
have  been  of  nightly  occurrence  in  the  very  heart  of  London, 


STREET    IN    OLD    LONDON. 


BAR  NAB  Y  RUDGE.  139 

or  that  quiet  folks  should  have  ?iad  great  dread  of  traversing 
its  streets  after  the  shops  were  closed.  It  was  not  unusual 
for  those  who  wended  home  alone  at  midnight,  to  keep  the 
middle  of  the  road,  the  better  to  guard  against  surprise  from 
lurking  footpads  ;  few  would  venture  to  repair  at  a  late  hour 
to  Kentish  Town  or  Hampstead,  or  even  to  Kensington  or 
Chelsea,  unarmed  and  unattended ;  while  he  who  had  been 
loudest  and  most  valiant  at  the  supper-table  or  the  tavern, 
and  had  but  a  mile  or  so  to  go,  was  glad  to  fee  a  link-boy  to 
escort  him  home. 

There  were  many  other  characteristics  —  not  quite  so  dis- 
agreeable —  about  the  thoroughfares  of  London  then,  with 
which  they  had  been  long  familiar.  Some  of  the  shops, 
especially  those  to  the  eastward  of  Temple  Bar,  still  adhered 
to  the  old  practice  of  hanging  out  a  sign ;  and  the  creaking 
and  swinging  of  these  boards  in  their  iron  frames  on  windy 
nights,  formed  a  strange  and  mournful  concert  for  the  ears  of 
those  who  lay  awake  in  bed  or  hurried  through  the  streets. 
Long  stands  of  hackney-chairs  and  groups  of  chairmen,  com- 
pared with  whom  the  coachmen  of  our  day  are  gentle  and 
polite,  obstructed  the  way  and  filled  the  air  with  clamor; 
night-cellars,  indicated  by  a  little  stream  of  light  crossing  the 
pavement,  and  stretching  out  half-way  into  the  road,  and  by 
the  stifled  roar  of  voices  from  below,  yawned  for  the  reception 
and  entertainment  of  the  most  abandoned  of  both  sexes  ;  under 
every  shed  and  bulk  small  groups  of  link-boys  gamed  away 
the  earnings  of  the  day ;  or  one  more  weary  than  the  rest, 
gave  way  to  sleep,  and  let  the  fragment  of  his  torch  fall 
hissing  on  the  puddled  ground. 

Then  there  was  the  watch  with  staff  and  lantern  crying  the 
hour,  and  the  kind  of  weather ;  and  those  who  woke  up  at  his 
voice  and  turned  them  round  in  bed,  were  glad  to  hear  it 
rained,  or  snowed,  or  blew,  or  froze,  for  very  comfort's  sake. 
The  solitary  passenger  was  startled  by  the  chairmen's  cry  of 
"By  your  leave  there!"  as  two  came  trotting  past  him  with 
their  empty  vehicle  —  carried  backwards  to  show  its  being 
disengaged  —  and  hurried  to  the  nearest  stand.  ^Fany  a  pri- 
vate chair  too,  enclosing  some  hue  lady,  monstrously  hooped 
and   furbelowed,  and    preceded   by  running   footmen   beaiing 


140  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

flambeaux  —  for  which  extinguishers  are  yet  suspended  before 
the  doors  of  a  few  houses  of  the  better  sort  —  made  the  way 
gay  and  light  as  it  danced  along,  and  darker  and  more  dismal 
when  it  had  passed.  It  was  not  unusual  for  these  running 
gentry,  who  carried  it  with  a  very  high  hand,  to  quarrel  in 
the  servants'  hall  while  waiting  for  their  masters  and  mis- 
tresses ;  and,  falling  to  blows  either  there  or  in  the  street 
without,  to  strew  the  place  of  skirmish  with  hair-powder, 
fragments  of  bag-wigs,  and  scattered  nosegays.  Gaming,  the 
vice  which  ran  so  high  among  all  classes  (the  fashion  being  of 
course  set  by  the  upper),  was  generally  the  cause  of  these 
disputes ;  for  cards  and  dice  were  as  openly  used,  and  worked 
as  much  mischief,  and  yielded  as  much  excitement  below 
stairs,  as  above.  While  incidents  like  these,  arising  out  of 
drums  and  masquerades  and  parties  at  quadrille,  were  passing 
at  the  west  end  of  the  town,  heavy  stage-coaches  and  scarce 
heavier  wagons  were  lumbering  slowly  towards  the  city,  the 
coachmen,  guard,  and  passengers  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  the 
coach  —  a  day  or  so,  perhaps,  behind  its  time,  but  that  was 
nothing  —  despoiled  by  highwaymen  ;  who  made  no  scruple  to 
attack,  alone  and  single-handed,  a  whole  caravan  of  goods  and 
men,  and  sometimes  shot  a  passenger  or  two,  and  were  some- 
times shot  themselves,  just  as  the  case  might  be.  On  the 
morrow,  rumors  of  this  new  act  of  daring  on  the  road  yielded 
matter  for  a  few  hours'  conversation  through  the  town,  and  a 
Public  Progress  of  some  fine  gentleman  (half  drunk)  to 
Tyburn,  dressed  in  the  newest  fashion  and  damning  the  ordi- 
nary with  unspeakable  gallantry  and  grace,  furnished  to  the 
populace,  at  once  a  pleasant  excitement  and  a  wholesome  and 
profound  example. 

Among  all  the  dangerous  characters  who,  in  such  a  state  of 
society,  prowled  and  skulked  in  the  metropolis  at  night,  there 
was  one  man,  from  whom  many  as  uncouth  and  fierce  as  he, 
shrunk  with  an  involuntary  dread.  Who  he  was,  or  whence 
he  came,  was  a  question  often  asked,  but  which  none  could 
answer.  His  name  was  unknown,  he  had  never  been  seen 
until  within  eight  days  or  thereabouts,  and  was  equally  a 
stranger  to  the  old  ruffians,  upon  whose  haunts  he  ventured 
fearlessly,  as  to  the  young.     He  could  be  no  spy,  for  he  never 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  141 

removed  his  slouched  hat  to  look  about  him,  entered  into  con- 
versation with  no  man,  heeded  nothing  that  passed,  listened 
to  no  discourse,  regarded  nobody  that  came  or  went.  But  so 
surely  as  the  dead  of  night  set  in,  so  surely  this  man  was  in 
the  midst  of  the  loose  concourse  in  the  night-cellar  where 
outcasts  of  every  grade  resorted;  and  there  he  sat  till 
morning. 

He  was  not  only  a  spectre  at  their  licentious  feasts ;  a 
something  in  the  midst  of  their  revelry  and  riot  that  chilled 
and  haunted  them  ;  but  out  of  doors  he  was  the  same.  Directly 
it  was  dark,  he  was  abroad  —  never  in  company  with  any  one, 
but  always  alone ;  never  lingering  or  loitering,  but  always 
walking  swiftly  ;  and  looking  (so  they  said  who  had  seen  him) 
over  his  shoulder  from  time  to  time,  and  as  he  did  so  quicken- 
ing his  pace.  In  the  fields,  the  lanes,  the  roads,  in  all  quarters 
of  the  town  —  east,  west,  north,  and  south  —  that  man  was 
seen  gliding  on,  like  a  shadow.  He  was  always  hurrying 
away.  Those  who  encountered  him,  saw  liim  steal  past, 
caught  sight  of  the  backward  glance,  and  so  lost  him  in  the 
darkness. 

This  constant  restlessness  and  flitting  to  and  fro,  gave  rise 
to  strange  stories.  He  was  seen  in  such  distant  and  remote 
places,  at  times  so  nearly  tallying. with  each  other,  that  some 
doubted  whether  there  were  not  two  of  them,  or  more  —  some, 
whether  he  had  not  unearthly  means  of  travelling  from  spot 
to  spot.  The  footpad  hiding  in  a  ditch  had  marked  him 
passing  like  a  ghost  along  its  brink ;  the  vagrant  had  met 
him  on  the  dark  high-road ;  the  beggar  had  seen  him  pause 
upon  the  bridge  to  look  down  at  the  water,  and  then  sweep 
on  again ;  they  who  dealt  in  bodies  with  the  surgeons  could 
swear  he  slept  in  churchyards,  and  that  they  had  beheld  him 
glide  away  among  the  tombs,  on  their  approach.  And  as 
they  told  these  stories  to  each  other,  one  who  had  looked 
about  him  would  pull  his  neighbor  by  the  sleeve,  and  there  he 
would  be  among  them. 

At  last,  one  man  —  he  was  of  those  whose  commerce  lay 
among  the  graves  —  resolved  to  question  this  strange  com- 
panion. Next  night,  when  he  had  eat  his  poor  nu^al  vora- 
ciously (he  was  accustomed  to  do  that,  they  had  observed,  as 


142  ^  A  UNA  BY  FUDGE. 

though  he  had  no  other  in  the  day),  this  fellow  sat  down  at 
his  elbow. 

"  A  black  night,  master  !  " 

"  It  is  a  black  night." 

"  Blacker  than  last,  though  that  was  pitchy  too.  Didn't  I 
pass  you  near  the  turnpike  in  the  Oxford  road  ?  " 

"  It's  like  you  may.     I  don't  know." 

'•Come,  come,  master,"  cried  the  fellow,  urged  on  by  the 
looks  of  his  comrades,  and  slapping  him  on  the  shoulder; 
"be  more  companionable  and  communicative.  Be  more  the 
gentleman  in  this  good  company.  There  are  tales  among  us 
that  you  have  sold  yourself  to  the  devil,  and  I  know  not 
what." 

"  We  all  have,  have  we  not  ?  "  returned  the  stranger,  looking 
up.  "If  we  were  fewer  in  number,  perhaps  he  would  give 
better  wages." 

"  It  goes  rather  hard  with  you,  indeed,"  said  the  fellow,  as 
the  stranger  disclosed  his  haggard  unwashed  face,  and  torn 
clothes.  "'  What  of  that  ?  Be  merry,  master.  A  stave  of  a 
roaring  song  now  "  — 

"'  Sing  you,  if  you  desire  to  hear  one,"  replied  the  other, 
shaking  him  roughly  off;  "and  don't  touch  me  if  you're  a 
prudent  man ;  I  carry  arms  which  go  off  easily  —  they  have 
done  so,  before  now  —  and  make  it  dangerous  for  strangers 
who  don't  know  the  trick  of  them,  to  lay  hands  upon  me." 

"'Do  you  threaten  ?  "  said  the  fellow. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  other,  rising  and  turning  upon  him, 
and  looking  fiercely  round  as  if  in  apprehension  of  a  general 
attack. 

His  voice,  and  look,  and  bearing  —  all  expressive  of  the 
wildest  recklessness  and  desperation  —  daunted  while  they 
repelled  the  bystanders.  Although  in  a  very  different  sphere 
of  action  now,  they  were  not  without  much  of  the  effect  they 
had  wrought  at  the  Maypole  Inn. 

"  I  am  what  you  all  are,  and  live  as  you  all  do,"  said  the 
man  sternly,  after  a  short  silence.     "'  I  am  in  hiding  here  like  - 
the  rest,  and  if  we  were  surprised,  would  perhaps  do  my  part 
with  the  best  of  ye.     If  it's  my  humor  to  be  left  to  myself, 
let  me  have  it.     Otherwise,"  —  and  here  he  swore  a  tremen- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  143 

dous  oath  —  "  there'll  be  mischief  done  in  this  place,  though 
there  are  odds  of  a  score  against  me." 

A  low  murmur,  having  its  origin  perhaps  in  a  dread  of  the 
man  and  the  mystery  that  surrounded  him,  or  perhaps  in  a 
sincere  opinion  on  the  part  of  some  of  those  present,  that  it 
would  be  an  inconvenient  precedent  to  meddle  too  curiously 
with  a  gentleman's  private  affairs  if  he  saw  reason  to  conceal 
them,  warned  the  fellow  who  had  occasioned  this  discussion 
that  he  had  best  pursue  it  no  further.  After  a  short  time  the 
strange  man  lay  down  upon  a  bench  to  sleep,  and  wlien  they 
thought  of  him  again,  they  found  that  he  was  gone. 

Next  night,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  he  was  abroad  again 
and  traversing  the  streets ;  he  was  before  the  locksmith's 
house  more  than  once,  but  the  family  were  out,  and  it  was 
close  shut.  This  night  he  crossed  London  Bridge  and  passed 
into  Southwark.  As  he  glided  down  a  by-street,  a  woman 
with  a  little  basket  on  her  arm,  turned  into  it  at  the  other  end. 
Directly  he  observed  her,  he  sought  the  shelter  of  an  archway, 
and  stood  aside  until  she  had  passed.  Then  he  emerged 
cautiously  from  his  hiding-place,  and  followed. 

She  went  into  several  shops  to  purchase  various  kinds  of 
household  necessaries,  and  round  every  place  at  which  she 
stopped  he  hovered  like  her  evil  spirit ;  following  her  when 
she  reappeared.  It  was  nigh  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  pas- 
sengers in  the  streets  were  thinning  fast,  when  she  turned, 
doubtless  to  go  home.     The  phantom  still  followed  her. 

She  turned  into  the  same  by-street  in  which  he  had  seen 
her  first,  which,  being  free  from  shops,  and  narrow,  was 
extremely  dark.  She  quickened  her  pace  here,  as  thougli 
distrustful  of  being  stopped,  and  robbed  of  sucli  trifling  prop- 
erty as  she  carried  with  her.  He  crept  along  on  the  other  side 
of  the  road.  Had  she  been  gifted  with  tlie  speed  of  wind,  it 
seemed  as  if  his  terrible  shadow  would  have  tracked  her  down. 

At  length  the  widow  —  for  she  it  was  —  reached  her  own 
door,  and,  panting  for  breath,  paused  to  take  the  key  from 
her  basket.  In  a  flush  and  glow,  with  the  liaste  she  had 
made,  and  the  pleasure  of  being  safe  at  home,  she  stooped  to 
draw  it  out,  when,  raising  her  head,  she  saw  him  standing 
silently  beside  her;  the  api)arition  of  a  dream. 


144  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

His  hand  was  on  her  mouth,  but  that  was  needless,  for  her 
tongue  clove  to  its  roof,  and  her  power  of  utterance  was  gone. 
"I  have  been  looking  for  you  many  nights.  Is  the  house 
empty  ?     Answer  me.     Is  any  one  inside  ?  " 

She  could  only  answer  by  a  rattle  in  her  throat. 

"  Make  me  a  sign." 

She  seemed  to  indicate  that  there  was  no  one  there.  He 
took  the  key,  unlocked  the  door,  carried  her  in,  and  secured 
it  carefully  behind  them. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  l45 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

It  was  a  chilly  night,  and  the  lire  in  the  widow's  parlor 
had  burnt  low.  Her  strange  companion  placed  her  in  a 
chair,  and  stooping  down  before  the  half-extinguished  ashes, 
raked  them  together  and  fanned  them  with  his  hat.  From 
time  to  time  he  glanced  at  her  over  his  shoulder,  as  though 
to  assure  himself  of  her  remaining  quiet  and  making  no  effort 
to  depart ;  and  that  done,  busied  himself  about  the  fire  again. 

It  was  not  without  reason  that  he  took  these  pains,  for  his 
dress  was  dank  and  drenched  with  wet,  his  jaws  rattled  with 
cold,  and  he  shivered  from  head  to  foot.  It  had  rained  hard 
during  the  previous  night  and  for  some  hours  in  the  morning, 
but  since  noon  it  had  been  fine.  Wheresoever  he  had  passed 
the  hours  of  darkness,  his  condition  sufficiently  betokened 
that  many  of  them  had  been  spent  beneath  the  open  sky. 
Besmeared  with  mire  ;  his  saturated  clothes  clinging  with  a 
damp  embrace  about  his  limbs ;  his  beard  unshaven,  his  face 
unwashed,  his  meagre  cheeks  worn  into  deep  hollows,  —  a 
more  miserable  wretch  could  hardly  be,  than  this  man  who 
now  cowered  down  upon  the  widow's  hearth,  and  watched  the 
struggling  flame  with  bloodshot  eyes. 

She  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  fearing,  as  it 
seemed,  to  look  towards  him.  So  they  remained  for  some 
short  time  in  silence.  Glancing  round  again,  he  asked  at 
length,  — 

"  Is  this  your  house  ?  " 

"  It  is.     Why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  do  you  darken  it  ?  " 

"  Give  me  meat  and  drink,''  he  answered  sullenly,  '^  or  I 
dare  do  more  than  that.  The  very  marrow  in  my  bones  is 
cold,  with  wet  and  hunger.  I  must  have  warmth  and  food, 
and  I  will  have  them  here." 

"You  were  the  robber  on  the  Chigwell  road," 

"  I  was." 

VOL.  I. 


146  BABNABT  RUDGF!. 

"  And  nearly  a  murderer  then." 

"The  will  was  not  wanting.  There  was  one  came  upon 
me  and  raised  the  hue-and-cry,  that  it  would  have  gone  hard 
with,  but  for  his  nimbleness.     I  made  a  thrust  at  him." 

''  You  thrust  your  sword  at  him  !  "  cried  the  widow,  looking 
upwards.     "  You  hear  this  man  !     You  hear  and  saw  !  " 

He  looked  at  her,  as,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and  her 
hands  tight  clinched  together,  she  uttered  these  words  in  an 
agony  of  appeal.  Then,  starting  to  his  feet  as  she  had  done, 
he  advanced  towards  her. 

"  Beware  !  "  she  cried  in  a  suppressed  voice,  whose  firmness 
stopped  him  midway.  "  Do  not  so  much  as  touch  me  with 
a  finger,  or  you  are  lost ;  body  and  soul,  you  are  lost." 

"  Hear  me,"  he  replied,  menacing  her  with  his  hand. 
"  I,  that  in  the  form  of  a  man  live  the  life  of  a  hunted  beast ; 
that  in  the  body  am  a  spirit,  a  ghost  upon  the  earth,  a  thing 
from  which  all  creatures  shrink,  save  those  curst  beings  of 
another  world,  who  will  not  leave  me ;  —  I  am,  in  my  despera- 
tion of  this  night,  past  all  fear  but  that  of  the  hell  in  which 
I  exist  from  day  to  day.  Give  the  alarm,  cry  out,  refuse  to 
shelter  me.  I  will  not  hurt  you.  But  I  will  not  be  taken 
alive;  and  so  surely  as  you  threaten  me  above  your  breath, 
I  fall  a  dead  man  on  this  floor.  The  blood  with  which  I 
sprinkle  it,  be  on  you  and  yours,  in  the  name  of  the  Evil 
Spirit  that  tempts  men  to  their  ruin  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  a  pistol  from  his  breast,  and  firmly 
clutched  it  in  his  hand. 

"  Remove  this  man  from  me,  good  Heaven  !  "  cried  the 
widow.  "  In  thy  grace  and  mercy,  give  him  one  minute's 
penitence,  and  strike  him  dead  !  " 

''  It  has  no  such  purpose,"  he  said,  confronting  her.  "  It 
is  deaf.  Give  me  to  eat  and  drink,  lest  I  do  that,  it  cannot 
help  my  doing,  and  will  not  do  for  you." 

"  Will  you  leave  me  if  I  do  thus  much  ?  Will  you  leave 
me  and  return  no  more  ?  " 

"  I  will  promise  nothing,"  he  rejoined,  seating  himself  at 
the  table,  "nothing  but  this  —  I  will  execute  my  threat  if  you 
betray  me." 

She  rose  at  length,  and  going  to  a  closet  or  pantry  in  the 


BABNABT  HUDGK  U7 

room,  brought  out  some  fragments  of  cold  meat  and  bread 
and  put  them  on  the  table.  He  asked  for  brandy  and  for 
water.  These  she  produced  likewise ;  and  he  ate  and  drank 
with  the  voracity  of  a  famished  hound.  All  the  time  he  was 
so  engaged,  she  kept  at  the  uttermost  distance  of  the  chamber, 
and  sat  there  shuddering,  but  with  her  face  towards  him. 
She  never  turned  her  back  upon  him  once  ;  and  although 
when  she  passed  him  (as  she  was  obliged  to  do  in  going  to 
and  from  the  cupboard)  she  gathered  the  skirts  of  her  gar- 
ment about  her,  as  if  even  its  touching  his  by  chance  were 
horrible  to  think  of,  still,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  dread  and 
terror,  she  kept  her  face  directed  to  his  own,  and  watched  his 
every  movement. 

His  repast  ended  —  if  that  can  be  called  one  which  was  a 
mere  ravenous  satisfying  of  the  calls  of  hunger  —  he  moved 
his  chair  towards  the  fire  again,  and  warming  himself  before 
the  blaze  which  had  now  sprung  brightly  up,  accosted  her 
once  more. 

"  I  am  an  outcast,  to  whom  a  roof  above  his  head  is  often 
an  uncommon  luxury,  and  the  food  a  beggar  would  reject 
is  delicate  fare.  You  live  here  at  your  ease.  Do  you  live 
alone  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,"  she  made  answer  with  an  effort. 

"  Who  dwells  here  besides  ?  " 

"  One  —  it  is  no  matter  who.  You  had  best  begone,  or  he 
may  find  you  here.     Why  do  you  linger  ?  " 

"  For  warmth,"  he  replied,  spreading  out  his  hands  before 
the  fire.     "  For  warmth.     You  are  rich,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Very,"  she  said,  faintly.  "  Very  rich.  No  doubt  I  am 
very  rich." 

"  At  least  you  are  not  penniless.  You  have  some  money. 
You  were  making  purchases  to-night." 

"  I  have  a  little  left.     It  is  but  a  few  shillings." 

"  Give  me  3'our  purse.  You  had  it  in  your  hand  at  the 
door.     Give  it  to  me." 

She  stepped  to  the  table  and  laid  it  down.  He  reached 
across,  took  it  up,  and  told  the  contents  into  liis  hand.  As 
he  was  counting  them,  she  listened  for  a  moment  and  sprung 
towards  him. 


148  BARI^ABT  BVDGE. 

"  Take  what  there  is,  take  all,  take  more  if  more  were 
there,  but  go  before  it  is  too  late.  I  have  heard  a  way- 
ward step  without,  I  know  full  well.  It  will  return  directly. 
Begone." 

''  What  do  you  mean  ?  '^ 

''Do  not  stop  to  ask.  I  will  not  answer.  Much  as  I 
dread  to  touch  you,  I  would  drag  you  to  the  door  if  I  possessed 
the  strength,  rather  than  you  should  lose  an  instant.  Miser- 
able wretch  !  fly  from  this  place." 

"If  there  are  spies  without,  I  am  safer  here,"  replied  the 
man,  standing  aghast.  "I  will  remain  here,  and  will  not  fly 
till  the  danger  is  past." 

"  It  is  too  late  ! "  cried  the  widow,  who  had  listened  for  the 
step,  and  not  to  him.  "  Hark  to  that  foot  upon  the  ground. 
Do  you  tremble  to  hear  it !     It  is  my  son,  my  idiot  son  ! " 

As  she  said  this  wildly  there  came  a  heavy  knocking  at  the 
door.     He  looked  at  her,  and  she  at  him. 

"  Let  him  come  in,"  said  the  man,  hoarsely.  "  I  fear  him 
less  than  the  dark,  houseless  night.  He  knocks  again.  Let 
him  come  in  !  " 

"The  dread  of  this  hour,"  returned  the  widow,  "has  been 
upon  me  all  my  life,  and  I  will  not.  Evil  will  fall  upon  him, 
if  you  stand  eye  to  eye.  My  blighted  boy  !  Oh  !  all  good 
angels  who  know  the  truth  —  hear  a  poor  mother's  prayer, 
and  spare  my  boy  from  knowledge  of  this  man  ! " 

"'  He  rattles  at  the  shutters  !  "  cried  the  man.  "'  He  calls 
you.  That  voice  and  cry  !  It  was  he  who  grappled  with  me 
in  the  road.     Was  it  he  ?  " 

She  had  sunk  upon  her  knees,  and  so  knelt  down,  moving 
her  lips,  but  uttering  no  sound.  As  he  gazed  upon  her,  uncer- 
tain what  to  do  or  where  to  turn,  the  shutters  flew  open.  He 
had  barely  time  to  catch  a  knife  from  the  table,  sheathe  it  in 
the  loose  sleeve  of  his  coat,  hide  in  the  closet,  and  do  all  with 
the  lightning's  speed,  when  Barnaby  tapped  at  the  bare  glass, 
and  raised  the  sash  exultingly. 

"  Why,  who  can  keep  out  Grip  and  me  ! "  he  cried,  thrust- 
ing in  his  head,  and  staring  round  the  room.  "Are  you 
there,  mother  ?  How  long  you  keep  us  from  the  fire  and 
lii^-ht." 


"If, 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  149 

She  stammered  some  excuse  and  tendered  him  her  hand. 
But  Barnaby  sprung  iightly  in  without  assistance,  and  putting 
his  arms  about  her  neck,  kissed  her  a  hundred  times. 

''We  have  been  afield,  mother  —  leaping  ditches,  scrambling 
through  hedges,  running  down  steep  banks,  up  and  away,  and 
hurrying  on.  The  wind  has  been  blowing,  and  the  rushes  and 
young  plants  bowing  and  bending  to  it,  lest  it  should  do  them 
harm,  the  cowards  —  and  Grip  —  ha,  ha,  ha  !  —  brave  Grip,  who 
cares  for  nothing,  and  when  the  wind  rolls  him  over  in  the 
dust,  turns  manfully  to  bite  it  —  Grip,  bold  Grip,  has  quar- 
relled with  every  little  bowing  twig  —  thinking,  he  told  me, 
that  it  mocked  him  —  and  has  worried  it  like  a  bull-dog.  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  " 

The  raven,  in  his  little  basket  at  his  master's  back,  hearing 
this  frequent  mention  of  his  name  in  a  tone  of  exultation, 
expressed  his  S3anpathy  by  crowing  like  a  cock,  and  after- 
wards running  over  his  various  phrases  of  speech  with  such 
rapidity,  and  in  so  many  varieties  of  hoarseness,  that  they 
sounded  like  the  murmurs  of  a  crowd  of  people. 

"  He  takes  such  care  of  me  besides  ! "  said  Barnaby.  "  Such 
care,  mother  !  He  watches  all  the  time  I  sleep,  and  when  I 
shut  my  eyes  and  make-believe  to  slumber,  he  practises  new 
learning  softly ;  but  he  keeps  his  eye  on  me  the  while,  and  if 
he  sees  me  laugh,  though  never  so  little,  stops  directly.  He 
won't  surprise  me  till  he's  perfect." 

The  raven  crowed  again  in  a  rapturous  manner  which 
plainly  said,  "  Those  are  certainly  some  of  my  characteristics, 
and  I  glory  in  them."  In  the  mean  time,  Barnaby  closed  the 
window  and  secured  it,  and  coming  to  the  fireplace,  prepared 
to  sit  down  with  his  face  to  the  closet.  ])ut  his  mother  pre- 
vented this,  by  hastily  taking  that  side  herself,  and  motioning 
him  towards  the  other. 

"How  pale  you  are  to-night !"  said  Barnaby,  leaning  on  his 
stick.     "We  have  been  cruel,  Grip,  and  made  her  anxious  !" 

Anxious  in  good  truth,  and  sick  at  heart !  The  listener  held 
the  door  of  his  hiding-place  open  with  his  hand,  and  closely 
watched  her  son.  Grip  —  alive  to  everything  his  master  was 
unconscious  of  —  had  his  head  out  of  tlie  basket,  and  in  return 
was  watching  him  intently  with  his  glistening  eye. 


150  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

"He  flaps  his  wings,"  said  Barnaby,  turning  almost  quickly 
enough  to  catch  the  retreating  form  and  closing  door,  "  as  if 
there  were  strangers  here ;  but  Grip  is  wiser  than  to  fancy 
that.     Jump  then  !  " 

Accepting  this  invitation  with  a  dignity  peculiar  to  himself, 
the  bird  hopped  up  on  his  master's  shoulder,  from  that  to  his 
extended  hand,  and  so  to  the  ground.  Barnaby  unstrapping 
the  basket  and  putting  it  down  in  a  corner  with  the  lid  open. 
Grip's  first  care  was  to  shut  it  down  with  all  possible  despatch, 
and  then  to  stand  upon  it.  Believing,  no  doubt,  that  he  had 
now  rendered  it  utterly  impossible,  and  beyond  the  power  of 
mortal  man,  to  shut  him  up  in  it  an}'  more,  he  drew  a  great 
many  corks  in  triumph,  and  uttered  a  corresponding  number 
of  hurrahs. 

"  Mother  ! "  said  Barnaby,  laying  aside  his  hat  and  stick, 
and  returning  to  the  chair  from  which  he  had  risen,  "  I'll  tell 
you  where  we  have  been  to-day,  and  what  we  have  been  doing, 
—  shall  I?" 

She  took  his  hand  in  hers,  and  holding  it,  nodded  the  word 
she  could  not  speak. 

"You  mustn't  tell,"  said  Barnaby,  holding  up  his  finger, 
"for  it's  a  secret,  mind,  and  only  known  to  me,  and  Grip,  and 
Hugh.  We  had  the  dog  with  us,  but  he's  not  like  Grip,  clever 
as  he  is,  and  doesn't  guess  it  yet,  I'll  wager.  —  Why  do  you 
look  behind  me  so  ?  " 

"  Did  I  ?  "  she  answered  faintly.  "  I  didn't  know  I  did. 
Come  nearer  me." 

"  You  are  frightened  ! "  said  Barnaby,  changing  color. 
"  Mother  —  you  don't  see  "  — 

"  See  what  ?  " 

"  There's  —  there's  none  of  this  about,  is  there  ? "  he 
answered  in  a  whisper,  drawing  closer  to  her  and  clasping 
the  mark  upon  his  wrist.  "  I  am  afraid  there  is,  somewhere. 
You  make  my  hair  stand  on  end,  and  my  flesh  creep.  Why 
do  you  look  like  that  ?  Is  it  in  the  room  as  I  have  seen  it  in 
my  dreams,  dashing  the  ceiling  and  the  walls  with  red  ?  Tell 
me.     Is  it  ?  " 

He  fell  into  a  shivering  fit  as  he  put  the  question,  and 
shutting  out  the  light  with  his  hands,  sat  shaking  in  every 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  151 

limb  until  it  had  passed  away.  After  a  time  he  raised  his 
head  and  looked  about  him. 

"Is  it  gone?-' 

"  There  has  been  nothing  here,"  rejoined  his  mother,  sooth- 
ing him.  '•  Nothing  indeed,  dear  Barnaby.  Look!  You  see 
there  are  but  you  and  me." 

He  gazed  at  her  vacantly,  and,  becoming  reassured  by 
degrees,  burst  into  a  wild  laugh. 

"  But  let  us  see,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "  Were  we  talking  ? 
Was  it  you  and  me  ?     Where  have  we  been  ?  " 

"  Nowhere  but  here." 

"Ay,  but  Hugh,  and  I,"  said  Barnaby,  —  "That's  it.  May- 
pole Hugh,  and  I,  you  know,  and  Grip  —  we  have  been  lying 
in  the  forest,  and  among  the  trees  by  the  roadside,  with  a  dark 
lantern  after  night  came  on,  and  the  dog  in  a  noose  ready  to 
slip  him  when  the  man  came  by." 

"  What  man  ?  " 

'•'  The  robber ;  him  that  the  stars  winked  at.  We  have 
waited  for  him  after  dark  these  many  nights,  and  we  shall 
have  him.  I'd  know  him  in  a  thousand.  Mother,  see  here  ! 
This  is  the  man.     Look  ! " 

He  twisted  his  handkerchief  round  his  head,  pulled  his  hat 
upon  his  brow,  wrapped  his  coat  about  him,  and  stood  up 
before  her :  so  like  the  original  he  counterfeited,  that  the 
dark  figure  peering  out  behind  him  might  have  passed  for  his 
own  shadow. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  We  shall  have  him,"  he  cried,  ridding  him- 
self of  the  semblance  as  hastily  as  he  had  assumed  it.  "'  You 
shall  see  him,  mother,  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  brought  to 
London  at  a  saddle-girth  ;  and  you  shall  hear  of  him  at  Tyburn 
Tree  if  we  have  luck.  So  Hugh  says.  You're  pale  again,  and 
trembling.     And  why  do  you  look  behind  me  so  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  not  quite  well.  Go 
you  to  bed,  dear,  and  leave  me  here." 

"  To  bed  !  "  he  answered.  "  I  don't  like  bed.  I  like  to  lie 
before  the  fire,  watching  the  prospects  in  the  burning  coals  — 
the  rivers,  hills,  and  dells,  in  tlie  deep,  red  sunset,  and  the  wild 
faces.  I  am  hungry  too,  and  Grip  lias  eaten  nothing  since 
broad  noon.     Let  us  to  supper.     Grip  !     To  supper,  lad  !  " 


152  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

The  raven  flapped  his  wings,  and,  croaking  his  satisfaction, 
hopped  to  the  feet  of  his  master,  and  there  held  his  bill  open, 
ready  for  snapping  up  such  lumps  of  meat  as  he  should  throw 
him.  Of  these  he  received  about  a  score  in  rapid  succession, 
without  the  smallest  discomposure. 

"  That's  all,"  said  Barnaby. 

"  More  !  "  cried  Grip.     "  More  !  " 

But  it  appearing  for  a  certainty  that  no  more  was  to  be  had, 
he  retreated  with  his  store  ;  and  disgorging  the  morsels  one 
by  one  from  his  pouch,  hid  them  in  various  corners  —  taking 
particular  care,  however,  to  avoid  the  closet,  as  being  doubtful 
of  the  hidden  man's  propensities  and  power  of  resisting  temp- 
tation. When  he  had  concluded  these  arrangements,  he  took  a 
turn  or  two  across  the  room  with  an  elaborate  assumption  of 
having  nothing  on  his  mind  (but  with  one  eye  hard  upon  his 
treasure  all  the  time),  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  began  to 
drag  it  out,  piece  by  piece,  and  eat  it  with  the  utmost  relish. 

Barnaby,  for  his  part,  having  pressed  his  mother  to  eat,  in 
vain,  made  a  hearty  supper  too.  Once,  during  the  progress 
of  lys  meal,  he  wanted  more  bread  from  the  closet  and  rose  to 
get  it.  She  hurriedly  interposed  to  prevent  him,  and  sum- 
moning her  utmost  fortitude,  passed  into  the  recess,  and 
brought  it  out  herself. 

"  Mother,"  said  Barnaby,  looking  at  her  steadfastly  as  she 
sat  down  beside  him,  after  doing  so  ;  "  is  to-day  my  birth- 
day ?  " 

"  To-day  ! "  she  answered.  "  Don't  you  recollect  it  was 
but  a  week  or  so  ago,  and  that  summer,  autumn,  and  winter 
have  to  pass  before  it  comes  again?  " 

"  I  remember  that  it  has  been  so  till  now,"  said  Barnaby. 
"  But  I  think  to-day  must  be  my  birthday  too,  for  all  that." 

She  asked  him  why?  "I'll  tell  you  why,"  he  said.  "I 
have  always  seen  you  —  I  didn't  let  you  know  it.  but  I  have  — 
on  the  evening  of  that  day  grow  very  sad.  I  have  seen  you 
cry  when  Grip  and  I  were  most  glad;  and  look  frightened 
with  no  reason ;  and  I  have  touched  your  hand,  and  felt  that 
it  was  cold  —  as  it  is  now.  Once,  mother  (on  a  birthday  that 
was,  also),  Grip  and  I  thought  of  this  after  we  went  up-stairs 
to  bed,  and  when  it  was  midnight,  striking  one  o'clock,  we 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  153 

came  down  to  your  door  to  see  if  you  were  well.  You  were 
on  your  knees.  I  forget  what  it  was  you  said.  Grip,  what 
was  it  we  heard  her  say  that  night  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  devil ! "  rejoined  the  raven  promptly. 

"Xo,  no,"  said  Barnaby.  "But  you  said  something  in  a 
prayer ;  and  when  you  rose  and  walked  about,  you  looked  (as 
you  have  done  ever  since,  mother,  towards  night  on  my  birth- 
day) just  as  you  do  now.  I  have  found  that  out,  you  see, 
though  I  am  silly.  So  I  say  you're  wrong ;  and  this  must  be 
my  birthday  —  my  birthday.  Grip  !  " 

The  bird  received  this  information  with  a  crow  of  such 
duration,  as  a  cock,  gifted  with  intelligence  beyond  all  others 
of  his  kind,  might  usher  in  the  longest  day  with.  Then,  as 
if  he  had  well  considered  the  sentiment,  and  regarded  it  as 
apposite  to  birthdays,  he  cried,  "  Xever  say  die ! "  a  great 
many  times,  and  flapped  his  wings  for  emphasis. 

The  widow  tried  to  make  light  of  Barnaby's  remark,  and 
endeavored  to  divert  his  attention  to  some  new  subject ;  too 
easy  a  task  at  all  times,  as  she  knew.  His  supper  done, 
Barnaby,  regardless  of  her  entreaties,  stretched  himself  on  the 
mat  before  the  lire ;  Grip  perched  upon  his  leg,  and  divided 
his  time  between  dozing  in  the  grateful  warmth,  and  endeav- 
oring (as  it  presenth'  appeared)  to  recall  a  new  accomplish- 
ment he  had  been  studying  all  day. 

A  long  and  profound  silence  ensued,  broken  only  by  some 
change  of  position  on  the  part  of  Barnaby,  whose  eyes  were 
still  wide  open  and  intently  fixed  upon  the  fire ;  or  by  an 
effort  of  recollection  on  the  part  of  Grip,  who  would  cry  in  a 
low  voice  from  time  to  time,  "Polly  put  the  ket  "  —  and  there 
stop  short,  forgetting  the  remainder,  and  go  off  in  a  doze 
again. 

After  a  long  interval,  Barnaby's  breathing  grew  more  deep 
and  regular,  and  his  eyes  were  closed.  But  even  then  the 
unquiet  spirit  of  the  raven  interposed.  "Polly  put  the 
ket "  —  cried  Grip,  and  his  master  was  broad  awake  again. 

At  length  Barnaby  slept  soundly  ;  and  the  bird  with  liis 
bill  sunk  upon  his  breast,  his  breast  itself  puffed  out  into  a 
comfortable  alderman-like  form,  and  his  bright  eye  growing 
smaller  and  smaller,  really  seemed  to  be  subsiding  into  a  state 


154  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

of  repose.  Now  and  then  he  muttered  in  a  sepulchral  voice, 
"  Polly  put  the  ket  "  —  but  very  drowsily,  and  more  like  a 
drunken  man  than  a  reflecting  raven. 

The  widow,  scarcely  venturing  to  breathe,  rose  from  her 
seat.  The  man  glided  from  the  closet,  and  extinguished  the 
candle. 

"  — tie  on,"  cried  Grip,  suddenly  struck  with  an  idea  and 
very  much  excited.  "  — tie  on.  Hurrah !  Polly  put  the 
ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea ;  Polly  put  the  ket-tle  on,  we'll 
all  have  tea.  Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah !  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a 
devil,  I'm  a  ket-tle  on,  Keep  up  your  spirits,  Never  say  die, 
Bow  wow  wow,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  ket-tle,  I'm  a  —  Polly  put 
the  ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea." 

They  stood  rooted  to  the  ground,  as  though  it  had  been  a 
voice  from  the  grave. 

But  even  this  failed  to  awaken  the  sleeper.  He  turned 
over  towards  the  fire,  his  arm  fell  to  the  ground,  and  his  head 
drooped  heavily  upon  it.  The  widow  and  her  unwelcome 
visitor  gazed  at  him  and  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  then 
she  motioned  him  towards  the  door. 

"  Stay,"  he  whispered.     "  You  teach  your  son  well." 

'•I  have  taught  him  nothing  that  3'ou  heard  to-night. 
Depart  instantly,  or  I  will  rouse  him." 

"You  are  free  to  do  so.     Shall  /  rouse  him  ?  " 

"  You  dare  not  do  that." 

"  I  dare  do  anything,  I  have  told  you.  He  knows  me  well, 
it  seems.     At  least  I  will  know  him." 

"  Would  you  kill  him  in  his  sleep  ? "  cried  the  widow, 
throwing  herself  between  them. 

"  Woman,"  he  returned  between  his  teeth,  as  he  motioned 
her  aside,  "  I  would  see  him  nearer,  and  I  will.  If  you  want 
one  of  us  to  kill  the  other,  wake  him." 

With  that  he  advanced,  and  bending  down  over  the  pros- 
trate form,  softly  turned  back  the  head  and  looked  into  the 
face.  The  light  of  the  fire  was  upon  it,  and  its  every  linea- 
ment was  revealed  distinctly.  He  contemplated  it  for  a  brief 
space,  and  hastily  uprose. 

"  Observe,"  he  whispered  in  the  widow's  ear :  "  In  him, 
of  whose  existence  I  was  ignorant  until  to-night,  I  have  you" 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  155 

in  my  power.  Be  careful  how  you.  use  me.  Be  carefiil  how 
you  use  me.  I  am  destitute  and  starving,  and  a  wanderer 
upon  the  earth.     I  may  take  a  sure  and  slow  revenge." 

"  There  is  some  dreadful  meaning  in  your  words.  I  do  not 
fathom  it." 

"  There  is  a  meaning  in  them,  and  I  see  you  fathom  it  to 
its  very  depth.  You  have  anticipated  it  for  years ;  you  have 
told  me  as  much.  I  leave  you  to  digest  it.  Do  not  forget 
my  warning." 

He  pointed,  as  he  left  her,  to  the  slumbering  form,  and 
stealthily  withdrawing,  made  his  way  into  the  street.  She 
fell  on  her  knees  beside  the  sleeper,  and  remained  like  one 
stricken  into  stone,  until  the  tears  which  fear  had  frozen  so 
long,  came  tenderly  to  her  relief. 

"  Oh  Thou,"  she  cried,  "  who  hast  taught  me  such  deep 
love  for  this  one  remnant  of  the  promise  of  a  happy  life,  out 
of  whose  affliction,  even,  perhaps  the  comfort  springs  that  he 
is. ever  a  relying,  loving  child  to  me  —  never  growing  old  or 
cold  at  heart,  but  needing  my  care  and  duty  in  his  manly 
strength  as  in  his  cradle-time  —  help  him,  in  his  darkened 
walk  through  this  sad  world,  or  he  is  doomed,  and  my  poor 
heart  is  broken  !" 


156  BABNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Gliding  along  the  silent  streets,  and  holding  his  course 
where  they  were  darkest  and  most  gloomy,  the  man  who  had 
left  the  widow's  house  crossed  London  Bridge,  and  arriving 
in  the  City,  plunged  into  the  back  ways,  lanes,  and  courts, 
between  Cornhill  and  Smithfield  ;  with  no  more  fixedness  of 
purpose  than  to  lose  himself  among  their  windings,  and  baffle 
pursuit,  if  any  one  were  dogging  his  steps. 

It  was  the  dead  time  of  the  night,  and  all  was  quiet.  Now 
and  then  a  drowsy  watchman's  footsteps  sounded  on  the  pave- 
ment, or  the  lamplighter  on  his  rounds  went  flashing  past, 
leaving  behind  a  little  track  of  smoke  mingled  with  glow- 
ing morsels  of  his  hot  red  link.  He  hid  himself  even  from 
these  partakers  of  his  lonely  walk,  and,  shrinking  in  some 
arch  or  doorway  while  they  passed,  issued  forth  again  when 
they  were  gone  and  so  pursued  his  solitary  way. 

To  be  shelterless  and  alone  in  the  open  country,  hearing 
the  wind  moan  and  watching  for  day  through  the  whole  long 
weary  night ;  to  listen  to  the  falling  rain,  and  crouch  for 
warmth  beneath  the  lee  of  some  old  barn  or  rick,  or  in  the 
lioUow  of  a  tree  ;  are  dismal  things  —  but  not  so  dismal  as  the 
wandering  upland  down  where  shelter  is,  and  b^ds  and  sleepers 
are  by  thousands  ;  a  houseless  rejected  creature.  To  pace  the 
echoing  stones  from  hour  to  hour,  counting  the  dull  chimes  of 
the  clocks  ;  to  watch  the  lights  twinkling  in  chamber  windows, 
to  think  what  happy  forgetfulness  each  house  shuts  in ;  that 
here  are  children  coiled  together  in  their  beds,  here  youth, 
here  age,  here  poverty,  here  wealth,  all  equal  in  their  sleep, 
and  all  at  rest ;  to  have  nothing  in  common  with  the  slumber- 
ing world  around,  not  even  sleep,  Heaven's  gift  to  all  its 
creatures,  and  be  akin  to  nothing  but  despair;  to  feel,  by 
the  wretched  contrast  with  everything  on  every  hand,  more 
utterly  alone  and  cast  away  than  in  a  trackless  desert ;  this  is 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  157 

a  kind  of  suffering  on  which  the  rivers  of  great  cities  close 
full  many  a  time,  and  which  the  solitude  in  crowds  alone 
awakens. 

The  miserable  man  paced  up  and  down  the  streets  —  so  long, 
so  wearisome,  so  like  each  other  —  and  often  cast  a  wistful 
look  towards  the  east,  hoping  to  see  the  first  faint  streaks  of 
day.  But  obdurate  night  had  yet  possession  of  the  sky,  and 
his  disturbed  and  restless  walk  found  no  relief. 

One  house  in  a  back  street  was  bright  with  the  cheerful 
glare  of  lights ;  there  was  the  sound  of  music  in  it  too,  and 
the  tread  of  dancers,  and  there  were  cheerful  voices,  and  many 
a  burst  of  laughter.  To  this  place  —  to  be  near  something 
that  was  awake  and  glad  —  he  returned  again  and  again ;  and 
more  than  one  of  those  who  left  it  when  the  merriment  was  at 
its  height,  felt  it  a  check  upon  their  mirthful  mood  to  see  him 
flitting  to  and  fro  like  an  uneasy  ghost.  At  last  the  guests 
departed,  one  and  all ;  and  then  the  house  was  close  shut  up, 
arid  became  as  dull  and  silent  as  the  rest. 

His  wanderings  brought  him  at  one  time  to  the  city  jail. 
Instead  of  hastening  from  it  as  a  place  of  ill  omen,  and  one 
he  had  cause  to  shun,  he  sat  down  on  some  steps  hard  by,  and 
resting  his  chin  upon  his  hand,  gazed  upon  its  rough  and 
frowning  walls  as  though  even  they  became  a  refuge  in  his 
jaded  eyes.  He  paced  it  round  and  round,  came  back  to  the 
same  spot,  and  sat  down  again.  He  did  this  often,  and  once, 
with  a  hasty  movement,  crossed  to  where  some  men  were 
watching  in  the  prison  lodge,  and  had  his  foot  upon  the  steps 
as  though  determined  to  accost  them.  But  looking  round  he 
saw  that  the  day  began  to  break,  and  failing  in  his  purpose, 
turned  and  fled. 

He  was  soon  in  the  quarter  he  had  lately  traversed,  and 
pacing  to  an  fro  again  as  he  had  done  before.  He  was 
passing  down  a  mean  street,  when  from  an  alley  close  at  hand 
some  shouts  of  revelry  arose,  and  there  came  straggling  forth 
a  dozen  madcaps,  whooping  and  calling  to  each  other,  who, 
parting  noisily,  took  different  ways  and  dispersed  in  smaller 
groups. 

Hoi)ing  that  some  low  place  of  entertainment  which  would 
afford  him  a  safe  refuge  might  be  near  at  hand,  he  turned  into 


158  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

this  court  when  they  were  all  gone,  and  looked  about  for  a 
half-opened  door,  or  lighted  window,  or  other  indication  of 
the  place  whence  they  had  come.  It  was  so  profoundly  dark, 
however,  and  so  ill-favored,  that  he  concluded  they  had  but 
turned  up  there,  missing  their  way,  and  were  pouring  out 
again  when  he  observed  them.  With  this  impression,  and 
finding  there  was  no  outlet  but  that  by  which  he  had 
entered,  he  was  about  to  turn,  when  from  a  grating  near  his 
feet  a  sudden  stream  of  light  appeared,  and  the  sound  of 
talking  came.  He  retreated  into  a  doorway,  to  see  who  these 
talkers  were,  and  to  listen  to  them. 

The  light  came  to  the  level  of  the  pavement  as  he  did  this, 
and  a  man  ascended  bearing  in  liis  hand  a  torch.  This  figure 
unlocked  and  held  open  the  grating  as  for  the  passage  of 
another,  who  presently  appeared,  in  the  form  of  a  young  man 
of  small  stature  and  uncommon  self-importance,  dressed  in  an 
obsolete  and  very  gaudy  fashion. 

"Good-night,  noble  captain,'^  said  he  with  the  torch. 
"Farewell,  commander.     Gook  luck,  illustrious  general!" 

In  return  to  these  compliments  the  otlier  bade  him  hold  his 
tongue,  and  keep  his  noise  to  himself ;  and  laid  upon  him 
many  similar  injunctions,  with  great  fluency  of  speech  and 
sternness  of  manner. 

"Commend  me,  captain,  to  the  stricken  Miggs,"  returned 
the  torch-bearer  in  a  lower  voice.  "  My  captain  flies  at 
higher  game  than  !Miggses.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  My  captain  is  an 
eagle,  both  as  respects  his  eye  and  soaring  wings.  My 
captain  breaketh  hearts  as  other  bachelors  break  eggs  at 
breakfast." 

"  What  a  fool  you  are,  Stagg  ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  step- 
ping on  the  pavement  of  the  court,  and  brushing  from  his 
legs  the  dust  he  had  contracted  in  his  passage  upward. 

"His  precious  limbs!"  cried  Stagg,  clasping  one  of  his 
ankles.  "  Shall  a  Miggs  aspire  to  these  proportions  !  No,  no, 
my  captain.  We  will  inveigle  ladies  fair,  and  wed  them  in 
our  secret  cavern.  We  will  unite  ourselves  "svith  blooming 
beauties,  captain." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  my  buck,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  releasing 
his  leg;  "I'll  trouble  you  not  to  take  liberties,  and  not  to 


iiPc      ^'-^ 


-'7>'J> 


-^i"  \\\ 


!       S 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  159 

broach  certain  questions  unless  certain  questions  are  broached 
to  you.  Speak  when  you're  spoke  to  on  particular  sub- 
jects, and  not  otherways.  Hold  the  torch  up  till  I've  got 
to  the  end  of  the  court,  and  then  kennel  yourself,  do  you 
hear?" 

"  I  hear  you,  noble  captain." 

"  Obey  then,"  said  ^Slr.  Tappertit  haughtily.  "  Gentlemen, 
lead  on  I "  With  which  word  of  command  (addressed  to  an 
imaginary  staff  or  retinue)  he  folded  his  arms,  and  walked 
with  surpassing  dignity  down  the  court. 

His  obsequious  follower  stood  holding  the  torch  above  his 
head,  and  then  the  observer  saw  for  the  lirst  time,  from  his 
place  of  concealment,  that  he  was  blind.  Some  involuntary 
motion  on  his  part  caught  the  quick  ear  of  the  blind  man, 
before  he  was  conscious  of  having  moved  an  inch  towards 
him,  for  he  turned  suddenly  and  cried,  '•  Who's  there  ? " 

"  A  man,"  said  the  other,  advancing.     "  A  friend  ! " 

"A  stranger !  "  rejoined  the  blind  man.  "  Strangers  are 
not  my  friends.     What  do  you  do  there  ?  " 

"  I  saw  your  company  come  out,  and  waited  here  till  they 
were  gone.     I  want  a  lodging." 

"A  lodging  at  this  time  !  "  returned  Stagg,  pointing  towards 
the  dawn  as  though  he  saw  it.  "Do  you  know  the  day  is 
breaking  ?  " 

"I  know  it,"  rejoined  the  other,  "to  m}'  cost.  I  have  been 
traversing  this  iron-hearted  town  all  night." 

"You  had  better  traverse  it  again,"  said  the  blind  man, 
preparing  to  descend,  "  till  you  find  some  lodgings  suitable  to 
your  taste.     I  don't  let  any." 

"Stay  !  "  cried  the  other,  holding  him  by  the  arm. 

"  I'll  beat  this  light  about  tliat  hangdog  face  of  yours  (for 
hangdog  it  is,  if  it  answers  to  your  voice),  and  rouse  the 
neighborhood  besides,  if  you  detain  me,"  said  the  blind  man. 
"  Let  me  go.     Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"Do  ijoii  hear !  "  returned  the  other,  chinking  a  few  shillings 
together,  and  hurriedly  pressing  them  into  his  hand.  "I  beg 
nothing  of  you.  I  will  pay  for  the  shelter  you  give  me. 
Death  !  Is  it  much  to  ask  of  such  as  you  I  I  have  come 
from  the  country,  and  desire  to  rest  where  there  are  none  to 


160  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

question  me.  I  am  faint,  exhausted,  worn  out,  almost  dead. 
Let  me  lie  down,  like  a  dog,  before  your  fire.  I  ask  no  more 
£han  that.  If  you  would  be  rid  of  me,  I  will  depart  to- 
morrow." 

"  If  a  gentleman  has  been  unfortunate  on  the  road," 
muttered  Stagg,  yielding  to  the  other,  who,  pressing  on  him, 
had  already  gained  a  footing  on  the  steps  —  "  and  can  pay  for 
his  accommodation  "  — 

"I  will  pay  you  with  all  I  have.  I  am  just  now  past  the 
want  of  food,  God  knows,  and  wish  but  to  purchase  shelter. 
What  companion  have  you  below  ?  " 

"  None." 

"Then  fasten  your  grate  there,  and  show  me  the  way. 
Quick !  " 

The  blind  man  complied  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  and 
they  descended  together.  The  dialogue  had  passed  as  hur- 
riedly as  the  words  could  be  spoken,  and  they  stood  in  his 
wretched  room  before  he  had  had  time  to  recover  from  his 
first  surprise. 

"  May  I  see  where  that  door  leads  to,  and  what  is  beyond  ?  " 
said  the  man,  glancing  keenly  round.  "You  will  not  mind 
that?" 

"I  will  show  you  myself.  Follow  me,  or  go  before.  Take 
your  choice." 

He  bade  him  lead  the  way,  and  by  the  light  of  the  torch 
w^hich  his  conductor  held  up  for  the  purpose,  inspected  all 
three  cellars  narrowly.  Assured  that  the  blind  man  had 
spoken  truth,  and  that  he  lived  there  alone,  the  visitor 
returned  with  him  to  the  first,  in  which  a  fire  was  burn- 
ing, and  flung  himself  with  a  deep  groan  upon  the  ground 
before  it. 

His  host  pursued  his  usual  occupation  without  seeming  to 
heed  him  any  further.  But  directly  he  fell  asleep  —  and  he 
noted  his  falling  into  a  slumber,  as  readily  as  the  keenest- 
sighted  man  could  have  done — he  knelt  down  beside  him,  and 
passed  his  hand  lightly  but  carefully  over  his  face  and 
person. 

His  sleep  was  checkered  with  starts  and  moans,  and  some- 
times  with     a    muttered    word    or   two.      His    hands   were 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  161 

clinched,  his  brow  bent,  and  his  mouth  firmly  set.  All  this, 
the  blind  man  accurately  marked ;  and  as  if  his  curiosity  were 
strongly  awakened,  and  he  had  already  some  inkling  of  his 
mystery,  he  sat  watching  him,  if  the  expression  may  be  used, 
and  listening,  until  it  was  broad  day. 


162  BARNABT  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Dolly  Yarden's  pretty  little  head  was  yet  bewildered  by 
various  recollections  of  the  party,  and  her  bright  eyes  were 
yet  dazzled  by  a  crowd  of  images,  dancing  before  them  like 
motes  in  the  sunbeams,  among  which  the  effigy  of  one  partner 
in  particular  did  especially  figure,  the  same  being  a  young 
coachmaker  (a  master  in  his  own  right)  who  had  given  her  to 
understand,  when  he  handed  her  into  the  chair  at  parting, 
that  it  was  his  fixed  resolve  to  neglect  his  business  from  that 
time,  and  die  slowly  for  the  love  of  her  —  Dolly's  head,  and 
eyes,  and  thoughts,  and  seven  senses,  were  all  in  a  state  of 
flutter  and  confusion  for  which  the  party  was  accountable, 
although  it  was  now  three  days  old,  when,  as  she  was  sitting 
listlessly  at  breakfast,  reading  all  manner  of  fortunes  (that  is 
to  say,  of  married  and  flourishing  fortunes)  in  the  grounds  of 
her  teacup,  a  step  was  heard  in  the  workshop,  and  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Chester  was  descried  through  the  glass  door,  standing 
among  the  rusty  locks  and  keys,  like  love  among  the  roses  — 
for  which  apt  comparison  the  historian  may  by  no  means  take 
any  credit  to  himself,  the  same  being  the  invention,  in  a 
sentimental  mood,  of  the  chaste  and  modest  Miggs,  who, 
beholding  him  from  the  doorsteps  she  was  then  cleaning,  did, 
in  her  maiden  meditation,  give  utterance  to  the  simile. 

The  locksmith,  who  happened  at  the  moment  to  have  his 
eyes  thrown  upward  and  his  head  backward,  in  an  intense 
communing  with  Toby,  did  not  see  his  visitor,  until  Mrs. 
Varden,  more  watchful  than  the  rest,  had  desired  Sim  Tappertit 
to»open  the  glass  door  and  give  him  admission  —  from  which 
untoward  circumstance  the  good  lady  argued  (for  she  could 
deduce  a  precious  moral  from  the  most  trifling  event)  that  to 
take  a  draught  of  small  ale  in  the  morning  was  to  observe  a 
pernicious,  irreligious,  and  Pagan  custom,  the  relish  whereof 
should  be   left   to  swine,   and  Satan,  or  at  least  to  Popish 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  163 

persons,  and  should  be  shunned  by  the  righteous  as  a  work  of 
sin  and  evil.  She  would  no  doubt  have  pursued  her  admo- 
nition much  further,  and  would  have  founded  on  it  a  long  list 
of  precious  precepts  of  inestimable  value,  but  that  the  young 
gentleman  standing  by  in  a  somewhat  uncomfortable  and 
discomfited  manner  while  she  read  her  spouse  this  lecture, 
occasioned  her  to  bring  it  to  a  premature  conclusion. 

"  I'm  sure  you'll  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden,  rising 
and  courtesying.  "Varden  is  so  very  thoughtless,  and  needs 
so  much  reminding  —  Sim,  bring  a  chair  here." 

Mr.  Tappertit  obeyed,  with  a  flourish  implying  that  he  did 
so  under  protest. 

"  And  you  can  go,  Sim,"  said  the  locksmith. 

Mr.  Tappertit  obeyed  again,  still  under  protest  ;  and 
betaking  himself  to  the  workshop,  began  seriously  to  fear 
that  he  might  find  it  necessary  to  poison  his  master,  before 
his  time  was  out. 

In  the  mean  time,  Edward  returned  suitable  replies  to  Mrs. 
Varden's  courtesies,  and  that  lady  brightened  up  very  much ; 
so  that  when  he  accepted  a  dish  of  tea  from  the  fair  hands  of 
Dolly,  she  was  perfectly  agreeable. 

"  I  am  sure  if  there  is  anything  we  can  do,  —  Varden,  or  I, 
or  Dolly  either,  —  to  serve  you,  sir,  at  any  time,  you  have  only 
to  say  it,  and  it  shall  be  done,"  said  Mrs.  V. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  I  am  sure,"  returned  Edward. 
"You  encourage  me  to  say  that  I  have  come  here  now,  to  beg 
your  good  offices." 

Mrs.  Yarden  was  delighted  beyond  measure. 

"  It  occurred  to  me  that  probably  your  fair  daughter  might 
be  going  to  the  AYarren,  either  to-day  or  to-morrow,"  said 
Edward,  glancing  at  Dolly  ;  "  and  if  so,  and  you  will  allow 
her  to  take  charge  of  this  letter.  Ma'am,  you  will  oblige  me 
more  than  I  can  tell  you.  The  truth  is,  that  wliile  I  am  very 
anxious  it  should  reach  its  destination,  I  have  particular  rea- 
sons for  not  trusting  it  to  any  other  conveyance  ;  so  that 
without  your  help,  I  am  wliolly  at  a  loss." 

"  She  was  not  going  that  way,  sir,  either  to-day,  or  to- 
morrow, nor  indeed  all  next  week,"  the  lady  graciously 
rejoined,  "but  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  put  ourselves  out  of 


104  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

the  way  on  your  account,  and  if  you  wish  it,  you  may  depend 
upon  its  going  to-day.  You  might  suppose,"  said  Mrs. 
Varden,  frowning  at  her  husband,  '*  from  Varden's  sitting 
there  so  gkim  and  silent,  that  he  objected  to  this  arrange- 
ment ;  but  you  must  not  mind  that,  sir,  if  you  please.  It's 
his  way  at  home.  Out  of  doors  he  can  be  cheerful  and  talka- 
tive enough." 

Now  the  fact  was,  that  the  unfortunate  locksmith,  blessing 
his  stars  to  find  his  helpmate  in  such  good-humor,  had  been 
sitting  with  a  beaming  face,  hearing  this  discourse  with  a  joy 
past  all  expression.  Wherefore  this  sudden  attack  quite  took 
him  by  surprise. 

"  My  dear  Martha  "  —  he  said. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  dare  say,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Varden,  with  a 
smile  of  mingled  scorn  and  pleasantry.  "  Very  dear  !  We 
all  know  that." 

"No,  but  my  good  soul,"  said  Gabriel,  "you  are  quite 
mistaken.  You  are  indeed.  I  was  delighted  to  find  you  so 
kind  and  ready.  I  waited,  my  dear,  anxiously,  I  assure  you, 
to  hear  what  you  would  say." 

"  You  waited  anxiously,"  repeated  Mrs.  V.  "  Yes  !  Thank 
you,  Varden.  You  waited,  as  you  always  do,  that  I  might 
bear  the. blame,  if  any  came  of  it.  But  I  am  used  to  it," 
said  the  lady  with  a  kind  of  solemn  titter,  "  and  that's  my 
comfort !  " 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  Martha  "  —  said  Gabriel. 

"  Let  me  give  you  my  word,  my  dear,"  interposed  his  wife 
with  a  Christian  smile,  "  that  such  discussions  as  these 
between  married  people,  are  much  better  left  alone.  There- 
fore, if  you  please,  Varden,  we'll  drop  the  subject.  I  have  no 
wish  to  pursue  it.  I  could.  I  might  say  a  great  deal.  But  I 
would  rather  not.     Pray  don't  say  any  more." 

"  I  don't  want  to  say  any  more,"  rejoined  the  goaded  lock- 
smith. 

"  Well  then,  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Varden. 

"  Nor  did  I  begin  it,  Martha,"  added  the  locksmith,  good- 
humoredly,  "  I  must  say  that." 

"You  did  not  begin  it,  Varden  !  "  exclaimed  his  wife, 
opening   her  eyes   very   wide   and  looking  round   upon   the 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  1G5 

company,  as  though  she  would  say,  You  h«ar  this  man  ! 
"  You  did  not  begin  it,  Yarden  !  But  you  shall  not  say  I  was 
out  of  temper,  Xo,  you  did  not  begin  it,  oh,  dear,  no,  not 
you,  my  dear  !  " 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  locksmith.     "  That's  settled  then." 

"Oh,  yes,"  rejoined  his  wife,  "quite.  If  you  like  to  say 
Dolly  began  it,  my  dear,  I  shall  not  contradict  you.  I  know 
my  duty.  I  need  know  it,  I  am  sure.  I  am  often  obliged  to 
bear  it  in  mind,  when  my  inclination  perhaps  would  be  for 
the  moment  to  forget  it.  Thank  you,  Yarden."  And  so, 
with  a  mighty  show  of  humility  and  forgiveness,  she  folded 
her  hands,  and  looked  round  again,  with  a  smile  which  plainly 
said,  "  If  3^ou  desire  to  see  the  first  and  foremost  among 
female  martyrs,  here  she  is,  on  view  !  " 

This  little  incident,  illustrative  though  it  was  of  ^Mrs. 
Yarden^s  extraordinary  sweetness  and  amiability,  had  so 
strong  a  tendency  to  check  the  conversation  and  to  disconcert 
all  parties  but  that  excellent  lady,  that  only  a  few  mono- 
syllables were  uttered  until  Edward  withdrew  :  which  he 
presently  did,  thanking  the  lady  of  the  house  a  great  many 
times  for  her  condescension,  and  whispering  in  Dolly's  ear 
that  he  would  call  on  the  morrow,  in  case  there  should  happen 
to  be  an  answer  to  the  note  —  which,  indeed,  she  knew  with- 
out his  telling,  as  Barnaby  and  his  friend  Grip  had  dropped 
in  on  the  previous  night  to  prepare  her  for  the  visit  which 
was  then  terminating. 

Gabriel,  who  had  attended  Edward  to  the  door,  came  back 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  ;  and,  after  fidgeting  about  the 
room  in  a  very  uneasy  manner,  and  casting  a  great  many 
sidelong  looks  at  Mrs.  Yarden  (who  with  the  calmest  counte- 
nance in  the  world  was  five  fathoms  deep  in  the  Prot<^stant 
]\[anual),  inquired  of  Dolly  how  she  meant  to  go.  Dolly 
supposed  by  the  stage-coach,  and  looked  at  her  lady  mother, 
who  finding  herself  silently  appealed  to,  dived  down  at  least 
another  fathom  into  the  Manual,  and  became  unconscious  of 
all  earthly  things. 

"  Martha  "  —  said  the  locksmith. 

"  I  hear  you,  Yarden,"  said  his  wife,  without  rising  to  the 
surface. 


166  BAEXABY  BUDGE. 

*'  I  am  sorry,  my  dear,  you  have  such  an  objection  to  the 
Maypole  and  old  John,  for  otherways  as  it's  a  very  fine 
morning,  and  Saturday's  not  a  busy  day  with  us,  "sve  might 
have  all  three  gone  to  Chigwell  in  the  chaise,  and  had  quite  a 
happy  day  of  it." 

Mrs.  Varden  immediately  closed  the  Manual,  and  bursting 
into  tears,  requested  to  be  led  up-stairs. 

"  What  is  the  matter  now,  Martha  ?  "  inquired  the  lock- 
smith. 

To  which  Martha  rejoined,  "Oh!  don't  speak  to  me,"  and 
protested  in  agony  that  if  anybody  had  told  her  so,  she 
wouldn't  have  believed  it. 

"But,  Martha,"  said  Gabriel,  putting  himself  in  the  way  as 
she  was  moving  off  with  the  aid  of  Dolly's  shoulder,  "  wouldn't 
have  believed  what  ?  Tell  me  what's  wrong  now.  Do  tell 
me.  Upon  my  soul  I  don't  know.  Do  yoio  know,  child? 
Damme ! "  cried  the  locksmith,  plucking  at  his  wig  in  a 
kind  of  frenzy,  "nobody  does  know,  I  verily  believe,  but 
INIiggs ! " 

"  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden  faintly,  and  with  symptoms  of 
approaching  incoherence,  "is  attached  to  me,  and  that  is  suffi- 
cient to  draw  down  hatred  upon  her  in  this  house.  She  is  a 
comfort  to  me  whatever  she  may  be  to  others." 

"She's  no  comfort  to  me,"  cried  Gabriel,  made  bold  by 
despair.  "  She's  the  misery  of  my  life.  She's  all  the  plagues 
of  Egypt  in  one." 

"  She's  considered  so,  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Mrs.  Varden. 
"  I  was  prepared  for  that ;  it's  natural ;  it's  of  apiece  with  the 
rest.  When  you  taunt  me  as  you  do  to  my  face,  how  can  I 
wonder  that  you  taunt  her  behind  her  back  !  "  And  here  the 
incoherence  coming  on  very  strong,  Mrs.  Varden  wept,  and 
laughed,  and  sobbed,  and  shivered,  and  hiccoughed,  and  choked ; 
and  said  she  knew  it  was  very  foolish  but  she  couldn't  help  it; 
and  that  when  she  was  dead  and  gone,  perhaps  they  would  be 
sorry  for  it  —  which  really  under  the  circumstances  did  not 
appear  quite  so  probable  as  she  seemed  to  think  —  with  a 
great  deal  more  to  the  same  effect.  In  a  word,  she  passed 
with  great  decency  through  all  the  ceremonies  incidental  to 
such  occasions ;  and  being  supported  up-stairs,  was  deposited 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  167 

in  a  highly  spasmodic  state  on  her  own  bed,  where  ^Miss  Miggs 
shortly  afterwards  flung  herself  upon  the  body. 

The  philosophy  of  all  this  was,  that  Mrs.  Varden  wanted  to 
go  to  Chigwell ;  that  she  did  not  want  to  make  any  concession 
or  explanation ;  that  she  would  only  go  on  being  implored  and 
entreated  so  to  do;  and  that  she  would  accept  no  other  terms. 
Accordingly,  after  a  vast  amount  of  moaning  and  crying  up- 
stairs, and  much  damping  of  foreheads,  and  vinegaring  of 
temples,  and  hartshorning  of  noses,  and  so  forth ;  and  after 
most  pathetic  adjurations  from  Miggs,  assisted  by  warm  brandy 
and  water  not  over-weak,  and  divers  other  cordials,  also  of  a 
stimulating  quality,  administered  at  first  in  teaspoonsful  and 
afterwards  in  increasing  doses,  and  of  which  ]\Iiss  ^liggs  her- 
self partook  as  a  preventive  measure  (for  fainting  is  infec- 
tious) ;  after  all  these  remedies,  and  many  more  too  numerous 
to  mention,  but  not  to  take,  had  been  applied;  and  many 
verbal  consolations,  moral,  religious,  and  miscellaneous,  had 
been  superadded  thereto;  the  locksmith  humbled  himself,  and 
the  end  was  gained. 

"  If  it's  only  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  quietness,  father," 
said  Dolly,  urging  him  to  go  up-stairs. 

"Oh,  Doll,  Doll,"  said  her  good-natured  father.  "If  you 
ever  have  a  husband  of  your  own  "  — 

Dolly  glanced  at  the  glass. 

"  Well,  when  you  have,"  said  the  locksmith,  "  never  faint, 
my  darling.  More  domestic  unhappiness  has  come  of  easy 
fainting,  Doll,  than  from  all  the  greater  passions  put  together. 
Remember  that,  my  dear,  if  you  would  be  really  happy,  which 
you  never  can  be,  if  your  husband  isn't.  And  a  word  in  your 
ear,  my  precious.     Never  have  a  Miggs  about  you  ! " 

With  this  advice  he  kissed  his  blooming  daughter  on  the 
cheek,  and  slowly  repaired  to  ^Irs,  Varden's  room ;  where  that 
lady,  lying  all  pale  and  languid  on  her  couch,  was  refreshing 
herself  with  a  sight  of  her  last  new  bonnet,  wliich  Miggs,  as  a 
means  of  calming  her  scattered  spirits,  displayed  to  the  best 
advantage  at  her  bedside. 

"  Here's  master,  mim,"  said  Miggs.  "Oh,  wliat  a  happiness 
it  is  when  man  and  wife  come  round  again  I  Oli  gracious,  to 
think  that  him  and  her  should  ever  have  a  word  togrtlior ! " 


168  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

In  the  energy  of  these  sentiments,  which  were  uttered  as  an 
apostrophe  to  the  Heavens  in  general,  Miss  Miggs  perched  the 
bonnet  on  the  top  of  her  own  head,  and  folding  her  hands, 
turned  on  her  tears. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  cried  Miggs.  "  I  couldn't,  if  I  was  to  be 
drownded  in  'em.  She  has  such  a  forgiving  spirit !  She'll 
forget  all  that  has  passed,  and  go  along  with  you,  sir  —  Oh,  if 
it  was  to  the  world's  end,  she'd  go  along  with  you.'' 

Mrs.  Varden  with  a  faint  smile  gently  reproved  her  attend- 
ant for  this  enthusiasm,  and  reminded  her  at  the  same  time 
that  she  was  far  too  unwell  to  venture  out  that  day. 

"Oh  no,  you're  not,  mim,  indeed  you're  not,"  said  Miggs; 
"  I  repeal  to  master ;  master  knows  you're  not,  mim.  The 
hair,  and  motion  of  the  shay,  will  do  you  good,  mim,  and  you 
must  not  give  way,  you  must  not  raly.  She  must  keep  up 
mustn't  she,  sir,  for  all  our  sakes  ?  I  was  a-telling  her  that, 
just  now.  She  must  remember  us,  even  if  she  forgets  herself. 
Master  will  persuade  you,  mim,  I'm  sure.  There's  Miss 
Dolly's  a-going  you  know,  and  master,  and  you,  and  all  so 
happy  and  so  comfortable.  Oh  ! "  cried  Miggs,  turning  on  the 
tears  again,  previous  to  quitting  the  room  in  great  emotion, 
"  I  never  see  such  a  blessed  one  as  she  is  for  the  forgiveness 
of  her  spirit,  I  never,  never,  nev^er  did.  Nor  more  did  master 
neither ;  no,  nor  no  one  —  never  !  " 

For  five  minutes  or  thereabouts,  Mrs.  Varden  remained 
mildly  opposed  to  all  her  husband's  prayers  that  she  would 
oblige  him  by  taking  a  day's  pleasure,  but  relenting  at  length, 
she  suffered  herself  to  be  persuaded,  and  granting  him  her 
free  forgiveness  (the  merit  thereof,  she  meekly  said,  rested 
with  the  Manual  and  not  with  her),  desired  that  Miggs  might 
come  and  help  her  dress.  The  handmaid  attended  promptly, 
and  it  is  but  justice  to  their  joint  exertions  to  record  that, 
when  the  good  lady  came  down-stairs  in  course  of  time,  com- 
pletely decked  out  for  the  journey,  she  really  looked  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  and  appeared  in  the  very  best  health 
imaginable. 

As  to  Dolly,  there  she  was  again,  the  very  pink  and  pattern 
of  good  looks,  in  a  smart  little  cherry-colored  mantle,  with  a 
hood  of  the  same  drawn  over  her  head,  and  upon  the  top  of 


BARNABT  RUBGE.  169 

that  hood,  a  little  straw  hat  trimmed  with  cherry-colored 
ribbons,  and  worn  the  merest  trifle  on  one  side  —  just  enough 
in  short  to  make  it  the  wickedest  and  most  provoking  head- 
dress that  ever  malicious  milliner  devised.  And  not  to  speak 
of  the  manner  in  which  these  cherry-colored  decorations 
brightened  her  eyes,  or  vied  with  her  lips,  or  shed  a  new 
bloom  on  her  face,  she  wore  such  a  cruel  little  muff,  and  such 
a  heart-rending  pair  of  shoes,  and  was  so  surrounded  and 
hemmed  in,  as  it  were,  by  aggravations  of  all  kinds,  that  when 
Mr.  Tappertit,  holding  the  horse's  head,  saw  her  come  out  of 
the  house  alone,  such  impulses  came  over  him  to  decoy  her 
into  the  chaise  and  drive  off  like  mad,  that  he  would  unques- 
tionably have  done  it,  but  for  certain  uneasy  doubts  besetting 
him  as  to  the  shortest  way  to  Gretna  Green ;  whether  it  was 
up  the  street  or  down,  or  up  the  right-hand  turning  or  the 
left ;  and  whether,  supposing  all  the  turnpikes  to  be  carried 
by  storm,  the  blacksmitli  in  the  end  would  marry  them  on 
credit ;  which  by  reason  of  his  clerical  office  appeared,  even  to 
his  excited  imagination,  so  unlikely,  that  he  hesitated.  And 
while  he  stood  hesitating,  and  looking  post-chaises  and  six  at 
Dolly,  out  came  his  master  and  his  mistress,  and  the  constant 
Miggs,  and  the  opportunity  was  gone  forever.  For  now  the 
chaise  creaked  upon  its  springs,  and  Mrs.  Varden  was  inside ; 
and  now  it  creaked  again,  and  more  than  ever,  and  the  lock- 
smith was  inside ;  and  now  it  bounded  once,  as  if  its  heart 
beat  lightly,  and  Dolly  was  inside ;  and  now  it  was  gone  and 
its  place  was  empty,  and  he  and  that  dreary  ^liggs  were  stand- 
ing in  the  street  together. 

The  hearty  locksmith  was  in  as  good  a  humor  as  if  nothing 
had  occurred  for  the  last  twelve  months  to  put  him  out  of  his 
way,  Dolly  was  all  smiles  and  graces,  and  Mrs.  Varden  was 
agreeable  beyond  all  precedent.  As  they  jogged  through  the 
streets  talking  of  this  tiling  and  of  that,  who  should  be  descried 
upon  the  pavement  but  that  very  coachmaker,  looking  so  gen- 
teel that  nobody  would  have  believed  he  had  ever  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  a  coach  but  riding  in  it,  and  bowing  like  any 
nobleman.  To  be  sure  Dolly  was  confused  when  she  bowed 
again,  and  to  be  sure  the  cherry -colored  ribbons  trembled  a 
little  when  she  met  his  mournful  eye,  which  seemed  to  say, 


170  BAliNABY  liUDGE. 

"  I  have  kept  my  word,  I  have  begun,  the  business  is  going 
to  the  devil,  and  you're  the  cause  of  it."  There  he  stood, 
rooted  to  the  ground :  as  Dolly  said  like  a  statue ;  and  as 
Mrs.  Varden  said,  like  a  pump;  till  they  turned  the  corner: 
and  when  her  father  thought  it  was  like  his  impudence,  and 
her  mother  wondered  what  he  meant  by  it,  Dolly  blushed 
again  till  her  very  hood  was  pale. 

But  on  they  went,  not  the  less  merrily  for  this,  and  there 
was  the  locksmith  in  the  incautious  fulness  of  his  heart 
"pulling-up"  at  all  manner  of  places,  and  evincing  a  most 
intimate  acquaintance  with  all  the  taverns  on  the  road,  and 
all  the  landlords  and  all  the  landladies,  with  whom,  indeed, 
the  little  horse  was  on  equally  friendly  terms,  for  he  kept  on 
stopping  of  his  own  accord.  Never  were  people  so  glad  to 
see  other  people  as  these  landlords  and  landladies  were  to 
behold  Mr.  Varden  and  Mrs.  Varden  and  Miss  Varden ;  and 
wouldn't  they  get  out,  said  one ;  and  they  really  must  walk 
up-stairs,  said  another ;  and  she  would  take  it  ill  and  be  quite 
certain  they  were  proud  if  they  wouldn't  have  a  little  taste  of 
something,  said  a  third ;  and  so  on,  that  it  really  was  quite  a 
Progress  rather  than  a  ride,  and  one  continued  scene  of  hospi- 
tality from  beginning  to  end.  It  was  pleasant  enough  to  be 
held  in  such  esteem,  not  to  mention  the  refreshments  ;  so  Mrs. 
Varden  said  nothing  at  the  time,  and  was  all  affability  and 
delight  —  but  such  a  body  of  evidence  as  she  collected  against 
the  unfortunate  locksmith  that  day,  to  be  used  thereafter  as 
occasion  might  require,  never  was  got  together  for  matrimonial 
purposes. 

In  course  of  time  —  and  in  course  of  a  pretty  long  time  too, 
for  these  agreeable  interruptions  delayed  them  not  a  little,  — 
they  arrived  upon  the  skirts  of  the  Forest,  and  riding 
pleasantly  on  among  the  trees,  came  at  last  to  the  Maypole, 
where  the  locksmith's  Cheerful  "  Yoho  ! "  speedily  brought  to 
the  porch  old  John,  and  after  him  young  Joe,  both  of  whom 
were  so  transfixed  at  sight  of  the  ladies,  that  for  a  moment 
they  were  perfectly  unable  to  give  them  any  welcome,  and 
could  do  nothing  but  stare. 

It  was  only  for  a  moment,  however,  that  Joe  forgot  himself, 
for  speedily  reviving  he  thrust  his   drowsy  father  aside  —  to 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  171 

Mr.  Willet's  mighty  and  inexpressible  indignation  —  and  dart- 
ing out,  stood  ready  to  help  them  to  alight.  It  was  necessary 
for  Dolly  to  get  out  first.  Joe  had  her  in  his  arms;  —  yes, 
though  for  a  space  of  time  no  longer  than  you  could  count 
one  in,  Joe  had  her  in  his  arms.  Here  was  a  glimpse  of 
happiness ! 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  what  a  flat  and  common- 
place affair  the  helping  Mrs.  Varden  out  afterwards  was,  but 
Joe  did  it,  and  did  it  too  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world. 
Then  old  John,  who,  entertaining  a  dull  and  foggy  sort  of 
idea  that  Mrs.  Varden  wasn't  fond  of  him,  had  been  in  some 
doubt  whether  she  might  not  have  come  for  purposes  of 
assault  and  battery,  took  courage,  hoped  she  was  w^ell,  and 
offered  to  conduct  her  fnto  the  house.  This  tender  being 
amicably  received,  they  marched  in  together ;  Joe  and  Dolly 
followed,  arm  in  arm  (happiness  again  !)  and  Varden  brought 
up  the  rear. 

Old  John  would  have  it  that  they  must  sit  in  the  bar,  and 
nobody  objecting,  into  the  bar  they  went.  All  bars  are  snug 
places,  but  the  Maypole's  was  the  very  snuggest,  cosiest,  and 
completest  bar,  that  ever  the  wit  of  man  devised.  Such  amaz- 
ing bottles  in  old  oaken  pigeon-holes,  such  gleaming  tankards 
dangling  from  pegs  at  about  the  same  inclination  as  thirsty 
men  would  hold  them  to  their  lips  ;  such  sturdy  little  Dutch 
kegs  ranged  in  rows  on  shelves ;  so  many  lemons  hanging  in 
separate  nets,  and  forming  the  fragrant  grove  already  men- 
tioned in  this  chronicle,  suggestive,  with  goodly  loaves  of 
snowy  sugar  stowed  away  hard  by,  of  punch  idealized  beyond 
all  mortal  knowledge ;  such  closets,  such  presses,  such  drawers 
full  of  pipes,  such  places  for  putting  things  away  in  hollow 
window-seats,  all  crammed  to  the  throat  with  eatables,  drink- 
ables, or  savory  condiments ;  lastly,  and  to  crown  all,  as 
typical  of  the  immense  resources  of  the  establishment,  and  its 
defiances  to  all  visitors  to  cut  and  come  again,  such  a 
stupendous  cheese ! 

It  is  a  poor  heart  that  never  rejoices  —  it  must  have  been 
the  poorest,  weakest,  and  most  watery  heart  that  ever  beat, 
which  would  not  have  warmed  towards  the  Maypole  l)ar. 
Mrs.    Varden's   did   directly.     She   could   no   more  have    re- 


172  BAUXABT  BUDGE. 

proached  John  Willet  among  those  househohl  gods,  the  kegs 
and  bottles,  lemons,  pipes,  and  cheese,  than  she  could  have 
stabbed  him  with  his  own  bright  carving-knife.  The  order 
for  dinner  too  —  it  might  have  soothed  a  savage.  "A  bit  of 
fish,"  said  John  to  the  cook,  "  and  some  lamb  chops  (breaded, 
with  plent}'  of  ketchup),  and  a  good  salad,  and  a  roast  spring 
chicken,  with  a  dish  of  sausages  and  mashed  potatoes,  or 
somethin.o:  of  that  sort."  Something  of  that  sort !  The 
resources  of  these  inns!  To  talk  carelessly  about  dishes, 
which  in  themselves  were  a  first-rate  holiday  kind  of  dinner, 
suitable  to  one's  wedding  day,  as  something  of  that  sort: 
meaning,  if  you  can't  get  a  spring  chicken,  any  other  trifle  in 
the  way  of  poultry  will  do  —  such  as  a  peacock,  perhaps ! 
The  kitchen  too,  with  its  great  broad  cavernous  chimney ;  the 
kitchen,  where  nothing  in  the  way  of  cookery  seemed  impos- 
siV)le ;  where  you  could  believe  in  anything  to  eat,  they  chose 
to  tell  you  of.  ]Mrs.  Varden  returned  from  the  contemplation 
of  these  wonders  to  the  bar  again,  with  a  head  quite  dizzy 
and  bewildered.  Her  housekeeping  capacity  was  not  large 
enough  to  comprehend  them.  She  was  obliged  to  go  to  sleep. 
Waking  was  pain  in  the  midst  of  such  immensity. 

Dolly  in  the  mean  while,  whose  gay  heart  and  head  ran 
upon  other  matters,  passed  out  at  the  garden  door,  and 
glancing  back  now  and  then  (but  of  course  not  wondering 
whether  Joe  saw  her),  tripped  away  by  a  path  across  the  fields 
with  w^hich  she  was  well  acquainted,  to  discharge  her  mission 
at  the  Warren;  and  this  deponent  hath  been  informed  and 
verily  believes,  that  you  might  have  seen  many  less  pleasant 
objects  than  the  cherry-colored  mantle  and  ribbons  as  they 
went  fluttering  along  the  green  meadows  in  the  bright  light 
of  the  day,  like  giddy  things  as  they  were. 


BABNABT  BUDGE,  173 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  proud  consciousness  of  lier  trust,  and  the  great  im- 
portance she  derived  from  it,  might  have  advertised  it  to 
all  the  house  if  she  had  had  to  run  the  gantlet  of  its  in- 
habitants ;  but  as  Dolly  had  played  in  every  dull  room  and 
passage  mau}^  and  many  a  time,  when  a  child,  and  had  ever 
since  been  the  humble  friend  of  Miss  Haredale,  whose  foster 
sister  she  was,  she  was  as  free  of  the  building  as  the  young 
lady  herself.  So,  using  no  greater  precaution  than  holding 
her  breath  and  walking  on  tiptoe  as  she  passed  the  library 
door,  she  went  straight  to  Emma's  room  as  a  privileged 
visitor. 

It  was  the  liveliest  room  in  the  building.  The  chamber 
was  sombre  like  the  rest  for  the  matter  of  that,  but  the 
presence  of  youth  and  beauty  would  make  a  prison  cheerful 
(saving  alas  !  that  confinement  withers  them),  and  lend  some 
charms  of  their  own  to  the  gloomiest  scene.  Birds,  flowers, 
books,  drawing,  music,  and  a  hundred  such  graceful  tokens  of 
feminine  loves  and  cares,  filled  it  with  more  of  life  and  human 
sympathy  than  the  whole  house  besides  seemed  made  to  hold. 
There  was  heart  in  the  room ;  and  who  that  has  a  heart,  ever 
fails  to  recognize  the  silent  presence  of  another ! 

Dolly  had  one  undoubtedly,  and  it  was  not  a  tough  one 
either,  though  there  was  a  little  mist  of  coquettishness  about 
it,  such  as  sometimes  surrounds  that  sun  of  life  in  its  morning, 
and  slightly  dims  its  lustre.  Thus,  when  Emma  rose  to  greet 
her,  and  kissing  her  affectionately  on  the  cheek,  told  her,  in 
her  quiet  way,  that  she  had  been  very  unhappy,  the  tears 
stood  in  Dolly's  eyes,  and  she  felt  more  sorry  than  she  could 
tell;  but  next  moment  she  happened  to  raise  them  to  the 
glass,  and  really  there  was  something  there  so  exceedingly 
agreeable,  that  as  she  sighed,  she  smiled,  and  felt  surprisingly 
consoled. 


174  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  I  have  heard  about  it,  Miss,"  said  Dolly,  "  and  it's  very- 
sad  indeed,  but  when  things  are  at  the  worst  they  are  sure  to 
mend." 

"  But  are  you  sure  they  are  at  the  worst  ?  "  asked  Emma 
with  a  smile. 

"  Wh}',  I  don't  see  how  they  can  very  well  be  more  unprom- 
ising than  they  are  ;  I  really  don't,"  said  Dolly.  "  And  I 
bring  something  to  begin  with." 

"Xot  from  Edward?" 

Dolly  nodded  and  smiled,  and  feeling  in  her  pockets  (there 
were  pockets  in  those  days)  with  an  affectation  of  not  being 
able  to  find  what  she  wanted,  which  greatly  enhanced  her 
importance,  at  length  produced  the  letter.  As  Emma  hastily 
broke  the  seal  and  became  absorbed  in  its  contents,  Dolly's 
eyes,  by  one  of  those  strange  accidents  for  which  there  is  no 
accounting,  wandered  to  the  glass  again.  She  could  not  help 
wondering  whether  the  coachmaker  suffered  very  much,  and 
quite  pitied  the  poor  man. 

It  was  a  long  letter  —  a  very  long  letter,  written  close  on  all 
four  sides  of  the  sheet  of  paper,  and  crossed  afterw^ards  ;  but 
it  was  not  a  consolatory  letter,  for  as  Emma  read  it  she 
stopped  from  time  to  time  to  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 
To  be  sure  Dolly  marvelled  greatly  to  see  her  in  so  much  dis- 
tress, for  to  her  thinking  a  love  affair  ought  to  be  one  of  the 
best  jokes,  and  the  slyest,  merriest  kind  of  thing  in  life. 
But  she  set  it  down  in  her  own  mind  that  all  this  came  from 
Miss  Haredale's  being  so  constant,  and  that  if  she  would  only 
take  on  with  some  other  young  gentleman  —  just  in  the  most 
innocent  way  possible,  to  keep  her  first  lover  up  to  the  mark 
—  she  would  find  herself  inexpressibly  comforted. 

"  I  am  sure  that's  what  I  should  do  if  it  was  me,"  thought 
Dolly.  "  To  make  one's  sweethearts  miserable  is  well  enough 
and  quite  right,  but  to  be  made  miserable  one's  self  is  a  little 
too  much ! " 

However  it  wouldn't  do  to  say  so,  and  therefore  she  sat 
looking  on  in  silence.  She  needed  a  pretty  considerable 
stretch  of  patience,  for  when  the  long  letter  had  been  read 
once  all  through  it  was  read  again,  and  when  it  had  been  read 
twice   all   though   it   was   read  again.     During  this  'tedious 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  175 

process,  Dolly  beguiled  the  time  in  the  most  improving 
manner  that  occurred  to  her,  by  curling  her  hair  on  her  fingers, 
with  the  aid  of  the  looking-glass  before  mentioned,  and  giv- 
ing it  some  killing  twists. 

Everything  has  an  end.  Even  young  ladies  in  love  cannot 
read  their  letters  forever.  In  course  of  time  the  packet  was 
folded  up,  and  it  only  remained  to  write  the  answer. 

But  as  this  promised  to  be  a  work  of  time  likewise,  Emma 
said  she  would  put  it  off  until  after  dinner,  and  that  Dolly 
must  dine  with  her.  As  Dolly  had  made  up  her  mind  to  do 
so  beforehand,  she  required  very  little  pressing ;  and  when 
they  had  settled  this  point,  they  went  to  walk  in  the 
garden. 

They  strolled  up  and  down  the  terrace  walks,  talking  inces- 
santly —  at  least,  Dolly  never  left  off  once  —  and  making  that 
quarter  of  the  sad  and  mournful  house  quite  gay.  Not  that 
they  talked  loudly  or  laughed  much,  but  they  were  both  so 
very  handsome,  and  it  was  such  a  breezy  day,  and  their  light 
dresses  and  dark  curls  appeared  so  free  and  joyous  in  their 
abandonment,  and  Emma  was  so  fair,  and  Dolly  so  rosy,  and 
Emma  so  delicately  shaped,  and  Dolly  so  plump,  and — iu 
short,  there  are  no  flowers  for  any  garden  like  such  flowers, 
let  horticulturists  say  what  they  may,  and  both  house  and 
garden  seemed  to  know  it,  and  to  brighten  up  sensibly. 

After  this,  came  the  dinner  and  the  letter-writing,  and 
some  more  talking,  in  the  course  of  which  jMiss  Haredale  took 
occasion  to  charge  upon  Dolly  certain  flirtish  and  inconstant 
propensities,  which  accusations  Dolly  seemed  to  think  very 
complimentary  indeed,  and  to  be  mightily  amused  with. 
Finding  her  quite  incorrigible  in  this  respect,  Emma  suffered 
her  to  depart ;  but  not  before  she  had  confided  to  her  that 
important  and  never-sufliciently-to-be-taken-care-of  answer, 
and  endowed  her  moreover  with  a  pretty  little  bracelet  as  a 
keepsake.  Having  clasped  it  on  her  arm,  and  again  advised 
her  half  in  jest  and  half  in  earnest  to  amend  her  roguish 
ways,  for  she  knew  she  was  fond  of  Joe  at  heart  (which  Dolly 
stoutly  denied,  with  a  great  many  haughty  j^rotestations  tliat 
she  hoped  she  could  do  better  than  that  indeed  !  and  so  fortli), 
she  bade  her  farewell ;  and  after  calling  her  back  to  give  her 


176  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

more  supplementary  messages  for  Edward,  than  anybody  with 
tenfold  the  gravity  of  Dolly  Varden  could  be  reasonably  ex- 
pected to  remember,  at  length  dismissed  her. 

Dolly  bade  her  good-by,  and  tripping  lightly  down  the 
stairs  arrived  at  the  dreaded  library  door,  and  was  about 
to  pass  it  again  on  tiptoe,  when  it  opened,  and  behold !  there 
stood  Mr.  Haredale.  Now,  Dolly  had  from  her  childhood 
associated  with  this  gentleman  the  idea  of  something  grim 
and  ghostly,  and  being  at  the  moment  conscience-stricken 
besides,  the  sight  of  him  threw  her  into  such  a  flurry  that  she 
could  neither  acknowledge  his  presence  nor  run  away,  so  she 
gave  a  great  start,  and  then  with  downcast  eyes  stood  still 
and  trembled. 

"Come  here,  girl,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  taking  her  by  the 
hand.     "  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I'm  in  a  hurry,"  faltered  Dolly,  "  and 
—  and  you  have  frightened  me  by  coming  so  suddenly  upon 
me,  sir,  —  I  would  rather  go,  sir,  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to 
let  me." 

"  Immediately,"  said  INIr.  Haredale,  who  had  by  this  time 
led  her  into  the  room  and  closed  the  door.  "You  shall  go 
directly.     You  have  just  left  Emma  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  just  this  minute.  —  Father's  waiting  for  me,  sir, 
if  you'll  please  to  have  the  goodness  "  — 

"I  know.  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "Answer  me  a 
question.     What  did  j^ou  bring  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  Bring  here,  sir  ?  "  faltered  Dolly. 

"  You  Avill  tell  me  the  truth,  I  am  sure.     Yes." 

Dolly  hesitated  for  a  little  while,  and  somewhat  emboldened 
by  his  manner,  said  at  last,  "Well  then,  sir.  It  was  a 
letter." 

"  From  Mr.  Edward  Chester,  of  course.  And  you  are  the 
bearer  of  the  answer  ?  " 

Dolly  hesitated  again,  and  not  being  able  to  decide  upon 
any  other  course  of  action,  burst  into  tears. 

"You  alarm  yourself  without  cause,"  said  Mr.  Haredale. 
"  Why  are  you  so  foolish  ?  Surely  you  can  answer  me.  You 
know  that  I  have  but  to  put  the  question  to  Emma  and  learn 
the  truth  directly.     Have  you  the  answer  with  you  ?  " 


BARN  A  BY  BUDGE.  177 

Dolly  had  what  is  popularly  called  a  spirit  of  her  own,  and 
being  now  fairly  at  bay,  made  the  best  of  it. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  rejoined,  trembling  and  frightened  as  she 
was.  "  Yes,  sir,  I  have.  You  may  kill  me  if  you  please, 
sir,  but  I  won't  give  it  up.  I'm  very  sorry,  —  but  I  won't. 
There,  sir." 

"I  commend  your  hrmness  and  your  plain  speaking,"  said 
Mr.  Haredale.  "  Kest  assured  that  I  have  as  little  desire  to 
take  your  letter  as  your  life.  You  are  a  very  discreet  mes- 
senger and  a  good  girl." 

Not  feeling  quite  certain,  as  she  afterwards  said,  whether 
he  might  not  be  "  coming  over  her"  with  these  compliments, 
Dolly  kept  as  far  from  him  as  she  could,  cried  again,  and 
resolved  to  defend  her  pocket  (for  the  letter  was  there)  to  the 
last  extremity. 

"I  have  some  design,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  after  a  short 
silence,  during  which  a  smile,  as  he  regarded  her,  had 
struggled  through  the  gloom  and  melancholy  that  was  natural 
to  his  face,  "  of  providing  a  companion  for  my  niece ;  for  her 
life  is  a  very  lonely  one.  AVould  you  like  the  office  ?  You 
are  the  oldest  friend  she  has,  and  the  best  entitled  to  it." 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  answered  Dolly,  not  sure  but  he  was 
bantering  her ;  "  I  can't  say.  I  don't  know  what  they  might 
wish  at  home.     I  couldn't  give  an  opinion,  sir." 

"  If  your  friends  had  no  objection,  would  3'ou  have  any  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Haredale.  "  Come.  There's  a  plain  question  ;  and 
easy  to  answer." 

"  None  at  all  that  I  know  of,  sir,"  replied  Dolly.  "  I  should 
be  very  glad  to  be  near  Miss  Emma  of  course,  and  always 
am." 

"That's  well,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "That  is  all  I  had  to 
say.     You  are  anxious  to  go.     Don't  let  me  detain  you." 

Dolly  didn't  let  him,  nor  did  she  wait  for  him  to  try,  for 
the  words  had  no  sooner  passed  his  lips  than  she  was  out  of 
the  room,  out  of  the  house,  and  in  the  fields  again. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done,  of  course,  when  she  came  to 
herself,  and  considered  what  a  flurry  she  had  been  in,  was  to 
cry  afresh  ;  and  the  next  thing,  when  she  reflected  how  well 
she  had  got  over  it,  was  to  laugh  lieartily.     Tlie  tears  once 

VOL.  I. 


178  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

banished  gav^e  place  to  the  smiles,  and  at  last  Dolly  laughed 
so  much  that  she  was  fain  to  lean  against  a  tree,  and  give 
vent  to  her  exultation.  When  she  could  laugh  no  longer 
and  was  quite  tired,  she  put  her  head-dress  to  rights,  dried 
her  eyes,  looked  back  very  merrily  and  triumphantly  at  the 
AVarren  chimneys,  which  were  just  visible,  and  resumed  her 
walk. 

The  twilight  had  come  on,  and  it  was  quickly  growing 
dusk,  but  the  path  was  so  familiar  to  her  from  frequent  trav- 
ersing that  she  hardly  thought  of  this,  and  certainly  felt  no 
uneasiness  at  being  alone.  Moreover,  there  was  the  bracelet 
to  admire ;  and  when  she  had  given  it  a  good  rub,  and  held 
it  out  at  arm's  length,  it  sparkled  and  glittered  so  beautifully 
on  her  wrist,  that  to  look  at  it  in  every  point  of  view  and 
with  every  possible  turn  of  the  arm,  was  quite  an  absorbing 
business.  There  was  the  letter  too,  and  it  looked  so  mys- 
terious and  knowing,  when  she  took  it  out  of  her  pocket,  and 
it  held,  as  she  knew,  so  much  inside,  that  to  turn  it  over  and 
over,  and  think  about  it,  and  wonder  how  it  began,  and  how 
it  ended,  and  what  it  said  all  through,  was  another  matter  of 
constant  occupation.  Between  the  bracelet  and  the  letter 
there  was  quite  enough  to  do  without  thinking  of  anything 
else  ;  and  admiring  each  by  turns,  Dolly  went  on  gayly. 

As  she  passed  through  a  wicket  gate  to  where  the  path  was 
narrow,  and  lay  between  two  hedges  garnished  here  and  there 
with  trees,  she  heard  a  rustling  close  at  hand,  which  brought 
her  to  a  sudden  stop.  She  listened.  All  was  very  quiet,  and 
she  went  on  again  —  not  absolutely  frightened,  but  a  little 
quicker  than  before  perhaps,  and  possibly  not  quite  so  much 
at  her  ease,  for  a  check  of  that  kind  is  startling. 

She  had  no  sooner  moved  on  again,  than  she  was  conscious 
of  the  same  sound,  which  w^as  like  that  of  a  person  tramping 
stealthily  among  bushes  and  brushwood.  Looking  towards 
the  spot  whence  it  appeared  to  come,  she  almost  fancied  she 
could  make  out  a  crouching  figure.  She  stopped  again.  All 
was  quiet  as  before.  On  she  went  once  more  —  decidedly 
faster  now  —  and  tried  to  sing  softly  to  herself.  It  must  be 
the  wind. 

But  how  came  the  wind  to  blow  only  when  she  walked,  and 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  179 

cease  when  she  stood  still  ?  IShe  stopped  involuntarily  as  she 
made  the  reflection,  and  the  rustling  noise  stopped  likewise. 
She  was  really  frightened  now,  and  was  yet  hesitating  what 
to  do,  when  the  bushes  crackled  and  snapped,  and  a  man 
came  plunging  through  them,  close  before  her. 


180  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

It  was  for  the  moment  an  inexpressible  relief  to  Dolly,  to 
recognize  in  the  person  who  forced  himself  into  the  path  so 
abruptly,  and  now  stood  directly  in  her  way,  Hugh  of  the 
Maypole,  whose  name  she  uttered  in  a  tone  of  delighted 
surprise  that  came  from  her  heart. 

"  Was  it  you  ?  "  she  said,  "  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you !  and 
how  could  you  terrify  me  so  ! " 

In  answer  to  which,  he  said  nothing  at  all,  but  stood  quite 
still,  looking  at  her. 

"  Did  you  come  to  meet  me  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

Hugh  nodded,  and  muttered  something  to  the  effect  that 
he  had  been  waiting  for  her,  and  had  expected  her  sooner. 

"I  thought  it  likely  they  would  send,"  said  Dolly,  greatly 
reassured  by  this. 

"  Nobody  sent  me,"  was  his  sullen  answer.  '•'  I  came  of  my 
own  accord." 

The  rough  bearing  of  this  fellow,  and  his  wild,  uncouth 
appearance,  had  often  filled  the  girl  with  a  vague  apprehen- 
sion even  when  other  people  were  by,  and  had  occasioned  her 
to  shrink  from  him  involuntarily.  The  having  him  for  an 
unbidden  companion  in  so  solitary  a  place,  with  the  darkness 
fast  gathering  about  them,  renewed  and  even  increased  the 
alarm  she  had  felt  at  hrst. 

If  his  mariner  had  been  merely  dogged  and  passively  fierce, 
as  usual,  she  would  have  had  no  greater  dislike  to  his  com- 
pany than  she  always  felt  —  perhaps,  indeed,  would  have 
been  rather  glad  to  have  had  him  at  hand.  But  there  was 
something  of  coarse  bold  admiration  in  his  look,  which  terri- 
fied her  very  much.  She  glanced  timidly  towards  him,  uncer- 
tain whether  to  go  forward  or  retreat,  and  he  stood  gazing  at 
her  like  a  handsome  satyr;   and  so  they  remained  for  some 


DOLLY    WAYLAID     BY    HUGH. 


I^r^-^Y 


BARNABY  RUhGE.  181 

short  time  without  stirring  or  breaking  silence.     At  length 
Dolly  took  courage,  shot  past  him,  and  hurried  on. 

"  Why  do  you  spend  so  much  breath  in  'ivoiding  me  ?  " 
said  Hugh,  accommodating  his  pace  to  hers,  and  keeping 
close  at  her  side. 

»"  I  wish  to  get  back  as  quickly  as  I  can,  and  you  walk  too 
near  me,"  answered  Dolly. 

"Too  near!"  said  Hugh,  stooping  over  her  so  that  she 
could  feel  his  breath  upon  her  forehead.  "  Why  too  near  ? 
You're  always  proud  to  me,  mistress." 

"  I  am  proud  to  no  one.  You  mistake  me,"  answered  Dolly. 
"  Fall  back,  if  you  please,  or  go  on." 

"Xay,  mistress,"  he  rejoined,  endeavoring  to  draw  her  arm 
through  his.     "  I'll  walk  with  you." 

She  released  herself,  and  clinching  her  little  hand,  struck 
him  with  right  good  will.  At  this,  ]\Iaypole  Hugh  burst  into 
a  roar  of  laughter,  and  passing  his  arm  about  her  waist,  held 
her  in  his  strong  grasp  as  easily  as  if  she  had  been  a  bird. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  W^ell  done,  mistress!  Strike  again.  You 
shall  beat  my  face,  and  tear  my  hair,  and  pluck  my  beard  up 
by  the  roots,  and  welcome,  for  the  sake  of  your  bright  eyes. 
Strike  again,  mistress.     Do.     Ha,  ha,  ha !     I  like  it." 

"  Let  me  go,"  she  cried,  endeavoring  with  both  her  hands 
to  push  him  off.     "Let  me  go  this  moment." 

"  You  had  as  good  be  kinder  to  me,  Sweetlips,"  said  Hugh. 
"You  had,  indeed.  Come.  Tell  me  now.  Why  are  you 
always  so  proud  ?  I  don't  quarrel  with  you  for  it.  I  love 
you  when  you're  proud.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  You  can't  hide  your 
beauty  from  a  poor  fellow  ;  that's  a  comfort !  " 

She  gave  him  no  answer,  but  as  he  had  not  yet  checked  her 
progress,  continued  to  press  forward  as  rapidly  as  she  could. 
At  length,  between  the  hurry  she  had  made,  her  terror,  and 
the  tightness  of  his  embrace,  her  strength  failed  her,  and  slie 
could  go  no  further. 

"Hugh,"  cried  the  panting  girl,  "good  Hugh;  if  you  will 
leave  me  I  will  give  you  anything  —  everything  I  have  —  and 
never  tell  one  word  of  this  to  any  living  creature." 

"You  had  best  not,"  he  answered.  "  Harkye,  little  dove, 
you  had  best  not.     All  about  here  know  me,  and  what  I  dare 


182  BARNABT  EUDGE. 

do  if  I  have  a  mind.  If  ever  you  are  going  to  tell,  stop  when 
the  words  are  on  your  lips,  and  think  of  the  mischief  you'll 
bring,  if  you  do,  upon  some  innocent  heads  that  you  wouldn't 
wish  to  hurt  a  hair  of.  Bring  trouble  on  me,  and  I'll  bring 
trouble  and  something  more  on  them  in  return.  I  care  no 
more  for  them  than  for  so  many  dogs ;  not  so  much  —  why 
should  I  ?  I'd  sooner  kill  a  man  than  a  dog  any  day.  I've 
never  been  sorry  for  a  man's  death  in  all  my  life,  and  I  have 
for  a  dog's." 

There  was  something  so  thoroughl}'  savage  in  the  manner 
of  these  expressions,  and  the  looks  and  gestures  by  which 
they  were  accompanied,  that  her  great  fear  of  him  gave 
her  new  strength,  and  enabled  her.  by  a  sudden  effort  to 
extricate  herself  and  run  fleetly  from  him.  But  Hugh  was 
as  nimble,  strong,  and  swift  of  foot,  as  any  man  in  broad 
England,  and  it  was  but  a  fruitless  expenditure  of  energy,  for 
he  had  her  in  his  encircling  arms  again  before  she  had  gone  a 
hundred  j'ards. 

"  Softly,  darling — gently — would  you  fly  from  rough  Hugh, 
that  loves  you  as  well  as  any  drawing-room  gallant  ?  " 

'•I  would,"  she  answered,  struggling  to  free  herself  again. 
"I  win.     Help!" 

"  A  fine  for  crying  out,"  said  Hugh.  "  Ha,  ha,  ha !  A  fine, 
pretty  one,  from  your  lips.     I  pay  myself  !     Ha,  ha,  ha! " 

"  Help  !  Help  !  Help  !  "  As  she  shrieked  with  the  utmost 
violence  she  could  exert,  a  shout  was  heard  in  answer,  and 
another,  and  another. 

"  Thank  Heaven ! "  cried  the  girl  in  an  ecstasy.  "  Joe, 
dear  Joe,  this  way.     Help  !  " 

Her  assailant  paused,  and  stood  irresolute  for  a  moment, 
but  the  shouts  drawing  nearer  and  coming  quick  upon  them, 
forced  him  to  a  speedy  decision.  He  released  her,  whispered 
with  a  menacing  look,  "Tell  hiin  :  and  see  what  follows!" 
and  leaping  the  hedge,  was  gone  in  an  instant.  Dolly  darted 
off,  and  fairly  ran  into  Joe  Willet's  open  arms. 

''  What  is  the  matter !  are  you  hurt !  what  was  it !  who 
was  it  ?  where  is  he  ?  what  was  he  like  ?  "  with  a  great 
many  encouraging  expressions  and  assurances  of  safety,  were 
the  first  words  Joe  poured  forth.     But  poor  little  Dolly  was 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  183 

SO  breathless  and  terrified  that  for  some  time  she  was  quite 
unable  to  answer  him,  and  liung  upon  his  shoulder,  sobbing 
and  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

Joe  had  not  the  smallest  objection  to  have  her  hanging  on 
his  shoulder ;  no,  not  the  least,  though  it  crushed  the  cherry- 
colored  ribbons  sadly,  and  put  the  smart  little  hat  out  of  all 
shape.  But  he  couldn't  bear  to  see  her  cry ;  it  went  to  his 
very  heart.  He  tried  to  console  her,  bent  over  her,  whispered 
to  her  —  some  say  kissed  her,  but  that's  a  fable.  At  any  rate 
he  said  all  the  kind  and  tender  things  he  could  think  of,  and 
Dolly  let  him  go  on  and  didn't  interrupt  him  once,  and  it  was 
a  good  ten  minutes  before  she  was  able  to  raise  her  head  and 
thank  him. 

"  What  was  it  that  frightened  you  ?  "  said  Joe. 

A  man  whose  person  was  unknown  to  her  had  followed 
her,  she  answered ;  he  began  by  begging,  and  went  on  to 
threats  of  robbery  which  he  was  on  the  point  of  carrying 
into  execution,  and  would  have  executed,  but  for  Joe's  timely 
aid.  The  hesitation  and  confusion  with  which  she  said  this, 
Joe  attributed  to  the  fright  she  had  sustained,  and  no  suspicion 
of  the  truth  occurred  to  him  for  a  moment. 

"Stop  when  the  words  are  on  your  lips."  A  hundred 
times  that  night,  and  very  often  afterwards,  when  the  dis- 
closure was  rising  to  her  tongue,  Dolly  thought  of  that,  and 
repressed  it.  A  deeply  rooted  dread  of  the  man ;  the  con- 
viction that  his  ferocious  nature,  once  roused,  would  stop  at 
nothing ;  and  the  strong  assurance  that  if  she  impeached  him, 
the  full  measure  of  his  wrath  and  vengeance  would  be  wreaked 
on  Joe,  who  had  preserved  her;  these  were  considerations  she 
had  not  the  courage  to  overcome,  and  inducements  to  secrecy 
too  powerful  for  her  to  surmount. 

Joe,  for  his  part,  was  a  great  deal  too  happy  to  inquire 
very  curiously  into  the  matter;  and  Dolly  being  yet  too 
tremulous  to  walk  without  assistance,  they  went  forward  very 
slowly,  and  in  his  mind  very  pleasantly,  until  the  Maypole 
lights  were  near  at  hand,  twinkling  their  cheerful  welcome, 
when  Dolly  stopped  suddenly,  and  with  a  half  scream  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  The  letter  ! " 


184  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

'^  What  letter  ?  "  cried  Joe. 

"That  I  was  carrying  —  I  had  it  in  my  hand.  My  bracelet, 
too,"  she  said,  clasping  her  wrist.     '- 1  have  lost  them  both !  " 

"Do  you  mean  just  now  ?  "  said  Joe. 

"Either  I  dropped  them  then,  or  they  were  taken  from 
me,"  answered  Dolly,  vainly  searching  her  pocket  and  rustling 
her  dress.  "  They  are  gone,  both  gone.  What  an  unhappy 
girl  I  am  ! "  With  these  words  poor  Dolly,  who  to  do  her 
justice  was  quite  as  sorry  for  the  loss  of  the  letter  as  for  her 
bracelet,  fell  a-crying  again,  and  bemoaned  her  fate  most 
movingly. 

Joe  tried  to  comfort  her  with  the  assurance  that  directly  he 
had  housed  her  safely  in  the  Maypole,  he  would  return  to  the 
spot  with  a  lantern  (for  it  was  now  quite  dark)  and  make 
strict  search  for  the  missing  articles,  Avhich  there  was  great 
probability  of  his  finding,  as  it  was  not  likely  that  anybody 
had  passed  that  way  since,  and  she  was  not  conscious  of  their 
having  been  forcibly  taken  from  her.  Dolly  thanked  him 
very  heartily  for  this  offer,  though  with  no  great  hope  of  his 
quest  being  successful ;  and  so,  with  many  lamentations  on 
her  side,  and  many  hopeful  words  on  his,  and  much  wea^kness 
on  the  part  of  Dolly  and  much  tender  supporting  on  the  part 
of  Joe,  they  reached  the  Maypole  bar  at  last,  where  the  lock- 
smith and  his  wife  and  old  John  were  yet  keeping  high 
festival. 

My.  Willet  received  the  intelligence  of  Dolly's  trouble  with 
that  surprising  presence  of  mind  and  readiness  of  speech  for 
which  he  was  so  eminently  distinguished  above  all  other  men. 
Mrs.  Varden  expressed  her  sympathy  for  her  daughter's 
distress  by  scolding  her  roundly  for  being  so  late ;  and  the 
honest  locksmith  divided  himself  between  condoling  with  and 
kissing  Dolly,  and  shaking  hands  heartily  with  Joe,  whom  he 
could  not  sufficient!}^  praise  or  thank. 

In  reference  to  this  latter  point,  old  John  was  far  from 
agreeing  with  his  friend  ;  for  besides  that  he  by  no  means 
approved  of  an  adventurous  spirit  in  the  abstract,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  if  his  son  and  heir  had  been  seriously  damaged  in 
a  scuffle,  the  consequences  would  assuredly  have  been  expen- 
sive and  inconvenient,  and  might  perhaps  have  proved  detri- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  185 

mental  to  the  Maypole  business.  Wherefore,  and  because  he 
looked  with  no  favorable  eye  upon  young  girls,  but  rather  con- 
sidered that  they  and  the  whole  female  sex  were  a  kind  of 
nonsensical  mistake  on  the  part  of  Nature,  he  took  occasion 
to  retire  and  shake  his  head  in  private  at  the  boiler ;  inspired 
by  which  silent  oracle,  he  was  moved  to  give  Joe  various 
stealthy  nudges  with  his  elbow,  as  a  parental  reproof  and 
gentle  admonition  to  mind  his  own  business  and  not  make  a 
fool  of  himself. 

Joe,  however,  took  down  the  lantern  and  lighted  it;  and 
arming  himself  Avith  a  stout  stick,  asked  whether  Hugh  was 
in  the  stable. 

"He's  lying  asleep  before  the  kitchen  fire,  sir,"  said  Mr. 
Willet.     "  What  do  you  want  him  for  ?  " 

"  I  want  him  to  come  with  me  to  look  after  this  bracelet 
and  letter,"  answered  Joe.     '•  Halloa,  there  !     Hugh  !  " 

Dolly  turned  pale  as  death,  and  felt  as  if  she  must  faint 
forthwith.  After  a  few  moments,  Hugh  came  staggering  in, 
stretching  himself  and  yawning  according  to  custom,  and 
presenting  every  appearance  of  having  been  roused  from  a 
sound  nap. 

"Here,  sleepy-head,"  said  Joe,  giving  him  the  lantern. 
"  Carry  this,  and  bring  the  dog,  and  that  small  cudgel  of 
yours.     And  woe  betide  the  fellow  if  we  come  upon  him." 

"What  fellow?"  growled  Hugh,  rubbing  his  eyes  and 
shaking  himself. 

"  What  fellow  ?  "  returned  Joe,  who  was  in  a  state  of  great 
valor  and  bustle ;  "  a  fellow  you  ought  to  know  of,  and  be 
more  alive  about.  It's  well  for  the  like  of  you,  lazy  giant 
that  you  are,  to  be  snoring  your  time  away  in  chimney- 
corners,  when  honest  men's  daughters  can't  cross  even  our 
quiet  meadows  at  nightfall  witliout  being  set  upon  by  foot- 
pads, and  frightened  out  of  their  precious  lives." 

"  They  never  rob  me,"  cried  Hugh  with  a  laugh.  "  I  have 
got  nothing  to  lose.  But  I'd  as  lief  knock  them  at  head  as 
any  other  men.     How  many  are  there  ?  " 

"Only  one,"  said  Dolly  faintly,  for  everybody  looked  at 
her. 

"And   what   was   he   like,  mistress  ? "  said    Hugh   with  a 


186  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

glance  at  young  Willet,  so  slight  and  momentary  that  the 
scowl  it  conveyed  was  lost  on  all  but  her.  "About  my 
height  ?  " 

"  ]N"ot  —  not  so  tall/'  Dolly  -^lied,  scarce  knowing  what 
she  said. 

"  His  dress,"  said  Hugh,  looking  at  her  keenly,  like  — 
like  any  of  ours  now  ?  I  know  all  the  people  hereabouts,  and 
maybe  could  give  a  guess  at  the  man,  if  I  had  anything  to 
guide  me." 

Dolly  faltered  and  turned  paler  yet ;  then  answered  that  he 
was  wrapped  in  a  loose  coat  and  had  his  face  hidden  by  a 
handkerchief,  and  that  she  could  give  no  other  description  of 
him. 

"You  wouldn't  know  him  if  you  saw  him  then,  belike  ?  " 
said  Hugh  with  a  malicious  grin. 

"  I  should  not,"  answered  Dolly,  bursting  into  tears  again. 
"  I  don't  wish  to  see  him.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  him.  I 
can't  talk  about  him  any  more.  Don't  go  to  look  for  these 
things,  Mr.  Joe,  i^ray  don't.  I  entreat  you  not  to  go  with 
that  man." 

"Not  to  go  with  me!"  cried  Hugh.  "I'm  too  rough  for 
them  all.  They're  all  afraid  of  me.  Why,  bless  you, 
mistress,  I've,  the  tenderest.  heart  alive.  I  love  all  the  ladies, 
ma'am,"  said  Hugh,  turning  to  the  locksmith's  wife. 

Mrs.  Varden  opined  that  if  he  did,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  himself,  such  sentiments  being  more  consistent  (so  she 
argued)  with  a  benighted  Mussulman  or  wild  Islander  than 
with  a  stanch  Protestant.  Arguing  from  this  imperfect  state 
of  his  morals,  Mrs.  Varden  further  opined  that  he  had  never 
studied  the  Manual.  Hugh  admitting  that  he  never  had,  and 
moreover  that  he  couldn't  read,  Mrs.  Varden  declared  with 
much  severity,  that  he  ought  to  be  even  more  ashamed  of 
himself  than  before,  and  strongly  recommended  him  to  save 
up  his  pocket-money  for  the  purchase  of  one,  and  further  to 
teach  himself  the  contents  with  all  convenient  diligence.  She 
was  still  pursuing  this  train  of  discourse,  when  Hugh,  some- 
what unceremoniously  and  irreverently,  followed  his  young 
master  out,  and  left  her  to  edify  the  rest  of  the  company. 
This  she  proceeded  to  do,  and  finding  that  Mr.  Willet's  eyes 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  187 

were  fixed  upon  her  with  an  appearance  of  deep  attention, 
gradually  addressed  the  whole  of  her  discourse  to  him,  whom 
she  entertained  with  a  moral  and  theological  lecture  of  con- 
siderable length,  in  the  conviction  that  great  workings  were 
taking  place  in  his  spirit.  The  simple  truth  was,  however, 
that  Mr.  Willet,  although  his  eyes  were  wide  open  and  he  saw 
a  woman  before  him  whose  head  by  long  and  steady  looking 
at  seemed  to  grow  bigger  and  bigger  until  it  filled  the  whole 
bar,  was  to  all  other  intents  and  purposes  fast  asleep ;  and  so 
sat  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
until  his  son's  return  caused  him  to  wake  up  with  a  deep 
sigh,  and  a  faint  impression  that  he  had  been  dreaming 
about  pickled  pork  and  greens  —  a  vision  of  his  slumbers 
which  was  no  doubt  referable  to  the  circumstance  of  Mrs. 
Varden's  having  frequently  pronounced  the  word  "  Grace " 
with  much  emphasis ;  which  word,  entering  the  portals  of 
Mr.  Willet's  brain  as  they  stood  ajar,  and  coupling  itself  with 
the  words  "  before  meat,"  which  were  there  ranging  about, 
did  in  time  suggest  a  particular  kind  of  meat  together  with 
that  description  of  vegetable  which  is  usually  its  companion. 

The  search  was  wholly  unsuccessful.  Joe  had  groped  along 
the  path  a  dozen  times,  and  among  the  grass,  and  in  the  dry 
ditch,  and  in  the  hedge,  but  all  in  vain.  Dolly,  who  was 
quite  inconsolable  for  her  loss,  wrote  a  note  to  Miss  Haredale 
giving  her  the  same  account  of  it  that  she  had  given  at  the 
Maypole,  which  Joe  undertook  to  deliver  as  soon  as  the  family 
were  stirring  next  day.  That  done,  they  sat  down  to  tea  in 
the  bar,  where  there  was  an  uncommon  display  of  buttered 
toast,  and  —  in  order  that  they  might  not  grow  faint  for 
want  of  sustenance,  and  might  have  a  decent  halting-place  or 
half-way  house  between  dinner  and  supper  —  a  few  savory 
trifles  in  the  shape  of  great  rashers  of  broiled  ham,  which 
being  well  cured,  done  to  a  turn,  and  smoking  hot,  sent  forth 
a  tempting  and  delicious  fragrance. 

Mrs.  Varden  was  seldom  very  Protestant  at  meals,  unless  it 
happened  that  they  were  under-done,  or  over-done,  or  indeed 
that  anything  occurred  to  put  her  out  of  humor.  Her  spirits 
rose  considerably  on  beholding  these  goodly  preparations, 
and  from  the  nothingness  of  good  works,  she  passed  to  the 


188  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

somethingness  of  ham  and  toast  with  great  cheerfulness. 
Nay,  under  the  influence  of  these  wholesome  stimulants,  she 
sharply  reproved  her  daughter  for  being  low  and  despondent 
(which  she  considered  an  unacceptable  frame  of  mind),  and 
remarked,  as  she  held  her  own  plate  for  a  fresh  supply,  that 
it  would  be  well  for  Dolly  who  pined  over  the  loss  of  a  toy 
and  a  sheet  of  paper,  if  she  would  reflect  upon  the  voluntary 
sacrifices  of  the  missionaries  in  foreign  parts  who  lived  chiefly 
on  salads. 

The  proceedings  of  such  a  day  occasioned  various  fluctuations 
in  the  human  thermometer,  and  especially  in  instruments  so 
sensitively  and  delicately  constructed  as  Mrs.  Varden.  Thus, 
at  dinner  Mrs.  V.  stood  at  summer  heat ;  genial,  smiling,  and 
delightful.  After  dinner,  in  the  sunshine  of  the  wine,  she 
went  up  at  least  half  a  dozen  degrees,  and  was  perfectly 
enchanting.  As  its  effect  subsided,  she  fell  rapidly,  went  to 
sleep  for  an  hour  or  so  at  temperate,  and  woke  at  something 
below  freezing.  Now  she  was  at  summer  heat  again,  in  the 
shade;  and  when  tea  was  over,  and  old  John,  producing  a 
bottle  of  cordial  from  one  of  the  oaken  cases,  insisted  on  her 
sipping  two  glasses  thereof  in  slow  succession,  she  stood 
steadily  at  ninety  for  one  hour  and  a  quarter.  Profiting  by 
experience,  the  locksmith  took  advantage  of  this  genial  weather 
to  smoke  his  pipe  in  the  porch,  and  in  consequence  of  this 
prudent  management,  he  was  fully  prepared,  when  the  glass 
went  down  again,  to  start  homewards  directly. 

The  horse  was  accordingly  put  in,  and  the  chaise  brought 
round  to  the  door.  Joe,  who  would  on  no  account  be  dis- 
suaded from  escorting  them  until  they  had  passed  the  most 
dreary  and  solitary  part  of  the  road,  led  out  the  gray  mare  at 
the  same  time  ;  and  having  helped  Dolly  into  her  seat  (more 
happiness  !)  sprung  gayly  into  the  saddle.  Then,  after  many 
good-nights,  and  admonitions  to  wrap  up,  and  glancing  of 
lights,  and  handing-in  of  cloaks  and  shawls,  the  chaise  rolled 
away,  and  Joe  trotted  beside  it — on  Dolly's  side  no  doubt, 
and  pretty  close  to  the  wheel  too. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  189 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

It  was  a  fine  bright  night,  and  for  all  her  lowness  of  spirits 
Dolly  kept  looking  up  at  the  stars  in  a  manner  so  bewitching 
(and  she  knew  it !)  that  Joe  was  clean  out  of  his  senses,  and 
plainly  showed  that  if  ever  a  man  were  —  not  to  say  over  head 
and  ears,  but  over  the  Monument  and  the  top  of  Saint  Paul's 
in  love,  that  man  was  himself.  The  road  was  a  very  good 
one ;  not  at  all  a  jolting  road,  or  an  uneven  one ;  and  yet 
Dolly  held  the  side  of  the  chaise  with  one  little  hand,  all  the 
way.  If  there  had  been  an  executioner  behind  him  with  an 
uplifted  axe  ready  to  chop  off  his  head  if  he  touched  that 
hand,  Joe  couldn't  have  helped  doing  it.  From  putting  his 
own  hand  upon  it  as  if  by  chance,  and  taking  it  away  again 
after  a  minute  or  so,  he  got  to  riding  along  without  taking  it 
off  at  all ;  as  if  he,  the  escort,  were  bound  to  do  that  as  an 
important  part  of  his  duty,  and  had  come  out  for  the  purpose. 
The  most  curious  circumstance  about  this  little  incident  was, 
that  Dolly  didn't  seem  to  know  of  it.  She  looked  so  innocent 
and  unconscious  when  she  turned  her  eyes  on  Joe,  that  it  was 
quite  provoking. 

She  talked  though ;  talked  about  her  friglit,  and  about 
Joe's  coming  up  to  rescue  her,  and  about  her  gratitude,  and 
about  her  fear  that  she  might  not  have  thanked  him  enough, 
and  about  their  always  being  friends  from  that  time  forth  — 
and'  about  all  that  sort  of  thing.  And  when  Joe  said,  not 
friends  he  hoped,  Dolly  was  quite  surprised,  and  said  not 
enemies  she  hoped ;  and  when  Joe  said,  couldn't  they  be 
something  much  better  than  either,  Dolly  all  of  a  sudden 
found  out  a  star  which  was  brighter  than  all  the  other  stars, 
and  begged  to  call  his  attention  to  the  same,  and  was  ten 
thousand  times  more  innocent  and  unconscious  than  ever. 

In  this  manner  they  travelled  along,  talking  very  little 
above  a  whisper,  and  wishing  the  road  could  be  stretched  out 


190  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

to  some  dozen  times  its  natural  length  —  at  least  that  was 
Joe's  desire  —  when,  as  they  were  getting  clear  of  the  forest 
and  emerging  on  the  more  frequented  road,  they  heard  behind 
them  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  at  a  round  trot,  which  grow- 
ing rapidly  louder  as  it  drew  nearer,  elicited  a  scream  from 
Mrs.  Varden,  and  the  cry  "  a  friend !  "  from  the  rider,  who 
now  came  panting  up,  and  checked  his  horse  beside  them. 

"  This  man  again  ! "  cried  Dolly,  shuddering. 

'^  Hugh  !  "  said  Joe.     "  What  errand  are  you  upon  ?  " 

"I  come  to  ride  back  with  you,"  he  answered,  glancing 
covertly  at  the  locksmith's  daughter.     "  He  sent  me." 

"  My  father !  "  said  poor  Joe  ;  adding  under  his  breath, 
with  a  very  unfilial  apostrophe,  "  Will  he  never  think  me  man 
enough  to  take  care  of  myself  !  " 

a  Ay  !  "  returned  Hugh  to  the  first  part  of  the  inquiry. 
"The  roads  are  not  safe  just  now,"  he  says,  "and  you'd 
better  have  a  companion." 

"  Ride  on  then,"  said  Joe.     "  I'm  not  going  to  turn  yet." 

Hugh  complied,  and  they  went  on  again.  It  was  his  whim 
or  humor  to  ride  immediately  before  the  chaise,  and  from 
this  position  he  constantly  turned  his  head,  and  looked  back. 
Dolly  felt  that  he  looked  at  her,  but  she  averted  her  eyes  and 
feared  to  raise  them  once,  so  great  was  the  dread  with  which 
he  had  inspired  her. 

This  interruption,  and  the  consequent  wakefulness  of  Mrs. 
Varden,  who  had  been  nodding  in  her  sleep  up  to  this  point, 
except  for  a  minute  or  two  at  a  time,  when  she  roused  herself 
to  scold  the  locksmith  for  audaciously  taking  hold  of  her  to 
prevent  her  nodding  herself  out  of  the  chaise,  put  a  restraint 
upon  the  whispered  conversation,  and  made  it  difficult  of 
resumption.  Indeed,  before  they  had  gone  another  mile, 
Gabriel  stopped  at  his  wife's  desire,  and  that  good  lady  pro- 
tested she  would  not  hear  of  Joe's  going  a  step  further  on 
any  account  whatever.  It  was  in  vain  for  Joe  to  protest  on 
the  other  hand  that  he  was  by  no  means  tired,  and  would  turn 
back  presently,  and  would  see  them  safely  past  such  and  such 
a  point,  and  so  forth.  Mrs.  Varden  was  obdurate,  and  being 
so  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  mortal  agency. 

"  Good-night  —  if  I  must  say  it,"  said  Joe,  sorrowfully. 


BAR  NAB  Y  BUDGE.  191 

"Good-night,"  said  Dolly.  She  would  have  added,  "Take 
care  of  that  man,  and  pray  don't  trust  him,"  but  he  had 
turned  his  horse's  head,  and  was  standing  close  to  them.  She 
had  therefore  nothing  for  it  but  to  suffer  Joe  to  give  her  hand 
a  gentle  squeeze,  and  when  the  chaise  had  gone  on  for  some 
distance,  to  look  back  and  wave  it,  as  he  still  lingered  on  the 
spot  where  they  had  parted,  with  the  tall  dark  figure  of  Hugh 
beside  him. 

What  she  thought  about,  going  home ;  and  whether  the 
coachmaker  held  as  favorable  a  place  in  her  meditations  as  he 
had  occupied  in  the  morning,  is  unknown.  They  reached 
home  at  last  —  at  last,  for  it  was  a  long  way,  made  none  the 
shorter  by  Mrs.  Varden's  grumbling.  Miggs  hearing  the  sound 
of  wheels  was  at  the  door  immediately. 

"  Here  they  are,  Simmun  !  Here  they  are  !  "  cried  Miggs, 
clapping  her  hands,  and  issuing  forth  to  help  her  mistress  to 
alight.  "Bring  a  chair,  Simmun.  Xow,  ain't  j^ou  the  better 
for.it,  mini  ?  Don't  you  feel  more  yourself  than  you  would 
have  done  if  you'd  have  stopped  at  home  ?  Oh,  gracious !  how 
cold  you  are  !     Goodness  me,  sir,  she's  a  perfect  heap  of  ice." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  my  good  girl.  You  had  better  take  her 
in  to  the  fire,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"  Master  sounds  unfeeling,  mini,"  said  IVIiggs,  in  a  tone  of 
commiseration,  "but  such  is  not  his  intentions,  I'm  sure. 
After  what  he  has  seen  of  you  this  day,  I  never  will  believe 
but  that  he  has  a  deal  more  affection  in  his  heart  than  to 
speak  unkind.  Come  in  and  sit  yourself  down  by  the  fire ; 
there's  a  good  dear — do." 

Mrs.  Varden  complied.  The  locksmith  followed  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  and  Mr.  Tappertit  trundled  off  with  the 
chaise  to  a  neighboring  stable. 

"  Martha,  my  dear,"  said  the  locksmith,  when  they  reached 
the  parlor,  "  if  you'll  look  to  Dolly  yourself,  or  let  somebody 
else  do  it,  perhaps  it  will  be  only  kind  and  reasonable.  She 
has  been  frightened  you  know,  and  is  not  at  all  well  to-night." 

In  fact,  Dolly  had  thrown  herself  upon  the  sofa,  quite 
regardless  of  all  the  little  finery  of  which  she  had  been  so 
proud  in  the  morning,  and  witli  her  face  buried  in  her  luinds 
was  crying  very  much. 


192  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

At  first  sight  of  this  phenomenon  (for  Dolly  was  by  no 
means  accustomed  to  displays  of  this  sort,  rather  learning 
from  her  mother's  example  to  avoid  them  as  much  as  possible) 
Mrs.  Varden  expressed  her  belief  that  never  was  any  woman 
so  beset  as  she :  that  her  life  was  a  continued  scene  of  trial ; 
that  whenever  she  was  disposed  to  be  well  and  cheerful,  so 
sure  were  the  people  around  her  to  throw,  by  some  means  or 
other,  a  damp  upon  her  spirits  ;  and  that,  as  she  had  enjoyed 
herself  that  day,  and  Heaven  knew  it  was  very  seldom  she  did 
enjoy  herself,  so  she  was  now  to  pay  the  penalty.  To  all  such 
propositions  Miggs  assented  freely.  Poor  Dolly,  however, 
grew  none  the  better  for  these  restoratives,  but  rather  worse, 
indeed ;  and  seeing  that  she  was  really  ill,  both  Mrs.  Yarden  and 
Miggs  were  moved  to  compassion,  and  tended  her  in  earnest. 

But  even  then,  their  very  kindness  shaped  itself  into  their 
usual  course  of  policy,  and  though  Dolly  was  in  a  swoon,  it 
was  rendered  clear  to  the  meanest  capacity,  that  Mrs.  Yarden 
was  the  sufferer.  Thus  when  Dolly  began  to  get  a  little 
better,  and  passed  into  that  stage  in  which  matrons  hold  that 
remonstrance  and  argument  may  be  successfully  applied,  her 
mother  represented  to  her,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  if  she 
had  been  flurried  and  worried  that  da}^,  she  must  remember  it 
was  the  common  lot  of  humanity,  and  in  especial  of  woman- 
kind, who  through  the  whole  of  their  existence  must  expect 
no  less,  and  were  bound  to  make  up  their  minds  to  meek 
endurance  and  patient  resignation.  Mrs.  Yarden  entreated 
her  to  remember  that  one  of  these  days  she  would,  in  all 
probability,  have  to  do  violence  to  her  feelings  so  far  as  to  be 
married ;  and  that  marriage,  as  she  might  see  every  day  of 
her  life  (and  truly  she  did)  was  a  state  requiring  great  forti- 
tude and  forbearance.  She  represented  to  her  in  lively 
colors,  that  if  she  (Mrs.  Y.)  had  not,  in  steering  her  course 
through  this  vale  of  tears,  been  supported  by  a  strong 
principle  of  duty  which  alone  upheld  and  prevented  her  from 
drooping,  she  must  have  been  in  her  grave  many  years  ago ; 
in  which  case  she  desired  to  know  what  would  have  become  of 
that  errant  spirit  (meaning  the  locksmith),  of  whose  eyes  she 
was  the  very  apple,  and  in  whose  path  she  was,  as  it  were,  a 
shining  light  and  guiding  star  ? 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  193 

Miss  Miggs  also  put  in  her  word  to  the  same  effect.  She 
said  that  indeed  and  indeed  Miss  Dolly  might  take  pattern  by 
her  blessed  mother,  who,  she  always  had  said,  and  always 
would  say,  though  she  w^ere  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and 
quartered  for  it  next  minute,  was  the  mildest,  aimiablest, 
forgivingest-spirited,  longest-sufferingest  female  as  ever  she 
could  have  believed ;  the  mere  narration  of  whose  excellencies 
had  worked  such  a  wholesome  change  in  the  mind  of  her  own 
sister-in-law,  that,  whereas,  before,  she  and  her  husband  lived 
like  cat  and  dog,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  exchanging  brass 
candlesticks,  pot-lids,  flat-irons,  and  other  such  strong  resent- 
ments, they  were  now  the  happiest  and  affectionatest  couple 
upon  earth  ;  as  could  be  proved  any  day  on  application  at 
Golden  Lion  Court,  number  twenty-siven,  second  bell-handle 
on  the  right-hand  door-post.  After  glancing  at  herself  as  a 
comparatively  worthless  vessel,  but  still  as  one  of  some  desert, 
she  besought  her  to  bear  in  mind  that  her  aforesaid  dear  and 
only  mother  was  of  a  weakly  constitution  and  excitable 
temperament,  who  had  constantly  to  sustain  afflictions  in 
domestic  life,  compared  with  which,  thieves  and  robbers  were 
as  nothing,  and  yet  never  sunk  down  or  gave  way  to  despair 
or  wrath,  but,  in  prize-fighting  phraseology,  always  came  up 
to  time  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and  went  in  to  win  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  When  Miggs  had  finished  her  solo, 
her  mistress  struck  in  again,  and  the  two  together  performed 
a  duet  to  the  same  purpose  ;  the  burden  being,  that  Mrs. 
Varden  was  persecuted  perfection,  and  Mr.  Varden,  as  the 
representative  of  mankind  in  that  apartment,  a  creature  of 
vicious  and  brutal  habits,  utterly  insensible  to  the  blessings 
he  enjoyed.  Of  so  refined  a  character,  indeed,  was  their 
talent  of  assault  under  the  mask  of  sympathy,  that  when 
Dolly,  recovering,  embraced  her  father  tenderly,  as  in  vindica- 
tion of  his  goodness,  Mrs.  Varden  expressed  her  solemn  hope 
that  this  would  be  a  lesson  to  him  for  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  and  that  he  would  do  some  little  justice  to  a  woman's 
nature  ever  afterwards  —  in  which  aspiration  ]\Iiss  iVIiggs,  by 
divers  sniffs  and  coughs,  more  significant  than  the  longest 
oration,  expressed  her  entire  concurrence. 

But  the  great  joy  of  Miggs's  heart  was,  that  she  not  only 
vol..  I. 


194  BARNABY  BULGE. 

picked  up  a  full  account  of  what  had  happened,  but  had  the 
exquisite  delight  of  conveying  it  to  ^Ir.  Tappertit  for  his 
jealousy  and  torture.  For  that  gentleman,  on  account  of 
Dolly's  indisposition,  had  been  requested  to  take  his  supper  in 
the  workshop,  and  it  was  conveyed  thither  by  Miss  Miggs's 
own  fair  hands. 

•'  Oh,  Simmun ! "  said  the  young  lady,  "  such  goings  on 
to-day  !     Oh,  gracious  me,  Simmun  ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit,  who  was  not  in  the  best  of  humors,  and 
who  disliked  Miss  Miggs  more  when  she  laid  her  hand  on  her 
heart  and  panted  for  breath  than  at  any  other  time,  as  her 
deficiency  of  outline  was  most  apparent  under  such  circum- 
stances, eyed  her  over  in  his  loftiest  style,  and  deigned  to 
express  no  curiosity  whatever. 

"  I  never  heard  the  like,  nor  nobody  else,"  pursued  Miggs. 
"  The  idea  of  interfering  with  her.  What  people  can  see  in 
her,  to  make  it  Avorth  their  while  to  do  so,  that's  the  joke  — 
he,  he,  he  !  " 

Finding  there  was  a  lady  in  the  case,  Mr.  Tappertit 
haughtily  requested  his  fair  friend  to  be  more  explicit,  and 
demanded  to  know  what  she  meant  by  "  her." 

"Why.  that  Dolly,"  said  ^liggs,  with  an  extremely  sharp 
emphasis  on  the  name.  "But,  oh  upon  ni}^  word  and  honor, 
young  Joseph  Willet  is  a  brave  one ;  and  he  do  deserve  her, 
that  he  do." 

"  Woman  !  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  jumping  off  the  counter 
on  which  he  was  seated ;  "  beware  I " 

"My  stars,  Simmun  !"  cried  Miggs,  in  affected  astonish- 
ment.    "  You  frighten  me  to  death  !     What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"There  are  strings,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  flourishing  his 
bread-and-cheese  knife  in  the  air,  "  in  the  human  heart  that 
had  better  not  be  wibrated.     That's  what's  the  matter." 

"  Oh,  very  well  —  if  you're  in  a  huff,"  cried  Miggs,  turning 
away. 

"Huff  or  no  huff,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  detaining  her  by 
the  wrist.  "  What  do  you  mean,  Jezebel  ?  What  were  you 
going  to  say  ?     Answer  me  !  " 

Notwithstanding  this  uncivil  exhortation,  Miggs  gladly  did 
as  she  was  required;    and  told  him  how  that  their  young 


BARlStABT  RUDGE.  l95 

mistress,  being  alone  in  the  meadows  after  dark,  had  been 
attacked  by  three  or  four  tall  men,  who  would  liave  certainly 
borne  her  away  and  perhaps  murdered  her,  but  for  the  timely 
arrival  of  Joseph  Willet,  who  with  his  own  single  hand  put 
them  all  to  flight,  and  rescued  her ;  to  the  lasting  admiration 
of  his  fellow-creatures  generally,  and  to  the  eternal  love  and 
gratitude  of  Dolly  Varden. 

"  Very  good,''  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  fetching  a  long  breath 
when  the  tale  was  told,  and  rubbing  his  hair  up  till  it  stood 
stiff  and  straight  on  end  all  over  his  head.  ''  His  days  are 
numbered." 

"  Oh,  Simmun  !  " 

"I  tell  you,"  said  the  'prentice,  "his  days  are  numbered. 
Leave  me.     Get  along  with  you." 

Miggs  departed  at  his  bidding,  but  less  because  of  his 
bidding  than  because  she  desired  to  chuckle  in  secret.  When 
she  had  given  vent  to  her  satisfaction,  she  returned  to  the 
parlor;  where  the  locksmith,  stimulated  by  quietness  and 
Toby,  had  become  talkative,  and  was  disposed  to  take  a 
cheerful  review  of  the  occurrences  of  the  day.  But  Mrs. 
Varden,  whose  practical  religion  (as  is  not  uncommon)  was 
usually  of  the  retrospective  order,  cut  him  short  by  declaim- 
ing on  the  sinfulness  of  such  junketings,  and  holding  that  it 
was  high  time  to  go  to  bed.  To  bed  therefore  she  withdrew, 
with  an  aspect  as  grim  and  gloomy  as  that  of  the  Maypole's 
own  state  couch;  and  to  bed  the  rest  of  the  establishment 
soon  afterwards  repaired. 


196  BARXABY  RUBGK 


CHAPTEE   XXIII. 

Twilight  had  given  place  to  night  some  hours,  and  it  was 
high  noon  in  those  quarters  of  the  town  in  which  "the 
world''  condescended  to  dwell  —  the  world  being  then,  as 
now,  of  very  limited  dimensions  and  easily  lodged  —  when 
Mr.  Chester  reclined  upon  a  sofa  in  his  dressing-room  in  the 
Temple,  entertaining  himself  with  a  book. 

He  was  dressing,  as  it  seemed,  by  easy  stages,  and  having 
performed  half  the  journey  was  taking  a  long  rest.  Com- 
pletely attired  as  to  his  legs  and  feet  in  the  trimmest  fashion 
of  the  day,  he  had  yet  the  remainder  of  his  toilet  to  perform. 
The  coat  was  stretched,  like  a  refined  scarecrow,  on  its 
separate  horse ;  the  waistcoat  was  displayed  to  the  best 
advantage ;  the  various  ornamental  articles  of  dress  were 
severally  set  out  in  most  alluring  order;  and  yet  he  lay 
dangling  his  legs  between  the  sofa  and  the  ground,  as  intent 
upon  his  book  as  if  there  were  nothing  but  bed  before  him. 

"  Upon  my  honor,"  he  said,  at  length  raising  his  eyes  to  the 
ceiling  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  reflecting  seriously  on 
what  he  had  read;  "upon  my  honor,  the  most  masterly  com- 
position, the  most  delicate  thoughts,  the  finest  code  of 
morality,  and  the  most  gentlemanly  sentiments  in  the  universe  ! 
Ah  Ned,  Ned,  if  j'ou  would  but  form  your  mind  by  such 
precepts,  we  should  have  but  one  common  feeling  on  every 
subject  that  could  possibly  arise  between  us !" 

This  apostrophe  was  addressed,  like  the  rest  of  his  remarks, 
to  empty  air :  for  Edward  was  not  present,  and  the  father 
was  quite  alone. 

"  My  Lord  Chesterfield,"  he  said,  pressing  his  hand  tenderly 
upon  the  book  as  he  laid  it  down,  "  if  I  could  but  have 
profited  by  your  genius  soon  enough  to  have  formed  my  sbn 
on  the  model  you  have  left  to  all  wise  fathers,  both  he  and  I 
would   have   been   rich    men.     Shakspeare   was  undoubtedly 


BAIiNABY  BUDGE.  197 

very  fine  in  liis  way ;  Milton  good,  tlioiigli  prosy,  Lord  Bacon 
deep,  and  decidedly  knowing- ;  but  the  writer  who  should  be 
his  country's  pride,  is  my  Lord  Chestertield.'' 

He  became  thoughtful  again,  and  the  toothpick  was  in 
requisition. 

"  I  thought  I  was  tolerably  accomplislied  as  a  man  of  the 
world,"  he  continued,  '•'  I  flattered  myself  that  I  was  pretty 
well  versed  in  all  those  little  arts  and  graces  which  distin- 
guish men  of  the  world  from  boors  and  peasants,  and  separate 
their  character  from  those  intensely  vulgar  sentiments  which 
are  called  the  national  character.  Apart  from  any  natural  pre- 
possession in  my  own  favor,  I  believed  I  was.  Still,  in  every 
page  of  this  enlightened  writer,  I  find  some  captivating 
hypocrisy  which  has  never  occurred  to  me  before,  or  som'e 
superlative  piece  of  selfishness  to  which  I  was  utterly  a 
stranger.  I  should  quite  blush  for  myself  before  this  stupen- 
dous creature,  if,  remembering  his  precepts,  one  might  blush 
at  anything.  An  amazing  man !  a  nobleman  indeed !  any 
King  or  Queen  may  make  a  Lord,  but  only  the  Devil  himself 
—  and  the  Graces  —  can  make  a  Chesterfield." 

Men  who  are  thoroughly  false  and  hollow,  seldom  try  to 
hide  those  vices  from  themselves ;  and  yet  in  the  very  act  of 
avowing  them,  they  lay  claim  to  the  virtues  they  feign  most 
to  despise.  "  For,"  say  they,  "  this  is  honesty,  this  is  truth. 
All  mankind  are  like  us,  but  they  have  not  the  candor  to 
avow  it."  The  more  they  affect  to  deny  the  existence  of  any 
sincerity  in  the  world,  the  more  they  would  be  thought  to 
possess  it  in  its  boldest  shape ;  and  this  is  an  unconscious 
compliment  to  Truth  on  the  part  of  these  philosophers,  which 
will  turn  the  laugh  against  them  to  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

Mr.  Chester,  having  extolled  his  favorite  author  as  above 
recited,  took  up  the  book  again  in  the  excess  of  his  admiration 
and  was  composing  himself  for  a  further  perusal  of  its  sublime 
morality,  when  he  was  disturbed  by  a  noise  at  the  outer  door; 
occasioned  as  it  seemed  by  the  endeavors  of  his  servant  to 
obstruct  the  entrance  of  some  unwelcome  visitor. 

"A  late  hour  for  an  importunate  creditor,"  he  ^aid,  raising 
his  eyebrows  with  as  indolent  an  expression  of  wonder  as  if 
the  noise  were  in  the  street,  and  one  with  wliich  lie  had  not 


198  BAUNABY  BUDGE. 

the  smallest  personal  concern.  "  Much  after  their  accustomed 
time.  The  usual  pretence  I  suppose.  No  doubt  a  heavy  pay- 
ment to  make  up  to-morrow.  Poor  fellow,  he  loses  time,  and 
time  is  money,  as  the  good  proverb  says  —  I  never  found  it 
out  though.  AVell.  What  now  ?  You  know  I  am  not  at 
home." 

"A  man,  sir,"  replied  the  servant,  who  was  to  the  full  as 
cool  and  iregligent  in  his  way  as  his  master,  "has  brought 
home  the  riding-whip  you  lost  the  other  day.  I  told  him  you 
were  out,  but  he  said  he  was  to  wait  while  I  brought  it  in,  and 
wouldn't  go  till  I  did." 

"  He  w^as  quite  right,"  returned  his  master,  "  and  you're  a 
blockhead,  possessing  no  judgment  or  discretion  whatever. 
Tell  him  to  come  in,  and  see  that  he  rubs  his  shoes  for  exactly 
five  minutes  first." 

The  man  laid  the  whip  on  a  chair,  and  withdrew.  The 
master,  who  had  only  heard  his  foot  upon  the  ground  and  had 
not  taken  the  trouble  to  turn  round  and  look  at  him,  shut 
his  book,  and  pursued  the  train  of  ideas  his  entrance  had 
disturbed. 

"If  time  were  money,"  he  said,  handling  his  snuff-box,  "I 
would  compound  my  creditors,  and  give  them  —  let  me  see  — 
how  much  a  day  ?  There's  my  nap  after  dinner  —  an  hour  — 
they're  extremely  welcome  to  that,  and  to  make  the  most  of 
it.  In  the  morning,  between  my  breakfast  and  the  paper,  I 
could  spare  them  another  hour ;  in  the  evening,  before  dinner, 
say  another.  Three  hours  a  day.  They  might  pay  themselves 
in  calls,  with  interest,  in  twelve  months.  I  think  I  shall 
propose  it  to  them.     Ah,  my  centaur,  are  you  there  ?  " 

"  Here  I  am,"  replied  Hugh,  striding  in,  followed  by  a  dog 
as  rough  and  sullen  as  himself;  "and  trouble  enough  I've 
had  to  get  here.  What  do  you  ask  me  to  come  for,  and  keep 
me  out  when  I  do  come  ?  " 

"My  good  fellow,"  returned  the  other,  raising  his  head  a 
little  from  the  cushion  and  carelessly  surveying  him  from  top 
to  toe,  "I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  and  to  have,  in  your  being 
here,  the  very  best  proof  that  3'ou  are  not  kept  out.  How 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  well  enough,"  said  Hugh  impatiently. 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  199 

"You  look  a  perfect  marvel  of  health.     Sit  down." 

"  I'd  rather  stand,"  said  Hugli. 

"Please  yourself,  my  good  fellow,"  returned  ^Ir.  Chester  ris- 
ing, slowly  pulling  off  the  loose  robe  he  wore,  and  sitting  down 
before  the  dressing-glass.    "  Please  yourself  by  all  means." 

Having  said  this  in  the  politest  and  blandest  tone  possible, 
he  went  on  dressing,  and  took  no  further  notice  of  his  guest, 
who  stood  in  the  same  spot  as  uncertain  what  to  do  next, 
eying  him  sulkily  from  time  to  time. 

"Are  you  going  to  speak  to  me,  master  ?  "  he  said,  after  a 
long  silence. 

"My  worthy  creat'ure,"  returned  Mr.  Chester,  "you  are  a 
little  ruffled  and  out  of  humor.  I'll  wait  till  you're  quite 
3'ourself  again.     I  am  in  no  hurry." 

This  behavior  had  its  intended  effect.  It  humbled  and 
abashed  the  man,  and  made  hiih  still  more  irresolute  and 
uncertain.  Hard  words  he  could  have  returned,  violence  he 
would  have  repaid  with  interest ;  but  this  cool,  complacent, 
contemptuous,  self-possessed  reception,  caused  him  to  feel  his 
inferiority  more  completely  than  the  most  elaborate  arguments. 
Everything  contributed  to  this  effect.  His  own  rough  speech, 
contrasted  with  tlie  soft  persuasive  accents  of  the  other ;  his 
rude  bearing,  and  Mr.  Chester's  polished  manner;  the  dis- 
order and  negligence  of  his  ragged  dress,  and  the  elegant 
attire  he  saw  before  him  :  with  all  the  unaccustomed  luxuries 
and  comforts  of  the  room,  and  the  silence  tliat  gave  him 
leisure  to  observe  these  things,  and  feel  how  ill  at  ease  they 
made  him ;  all  these  influences,  which  have  too  often  some 
effect  on  tutored  minds  and  become  of  almost  resistless  power 
when  brought  to  bear  on  such  a  mind  as  his,  quelled  Hugh 
completely.  He  moved  by  little  and  little  nearer  to  Mr. 
Chester's  chair,  and  glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  face  in  the  glass,  as  if  seeking  for  some  encourage- 
ment in  its  expression,  said  at  length,  with  a  rough  attempt 
at  conciliation. 

".4re  you  going  to  speak  to  me,  master,  or  am  I  to  go 
away  ?  " 

"  Speak  you,"  said  ISFr.  Chester,  "  speak  you,  good  fellow. 
I  have  spoken,  have  I  not  ?     I  am  waiting  for  you." 


200  B  All  NAB  Y  BUDGE. 

"Why,  look'ee,  sir,"  returned  Hugh  with  increased  em- 
barrassment, "am  I  the  man  that  you  privately  left  your 
whip  with  before  you  rode  away  from  the  IVlaypole,  and  told 
to  bring  it  back  whenever  he  might  want  to  see  you  on  a 
certain  subject  ?  " 

"No  doubt  the  same,  or  you  have  a  twin  brother,"  said 
Mr.  Chester,  glancing  at  the  reflection  of  his  anxious  face ; 
"  which  is  not  probable,  I  should  say." 

"Then  I  have  come,  sir,"  said  Hugh,  "and  I  have  brought 
it  back,  and  something  else  along  with  it.  A  letter,  sir,  it  is, 
that  I  took  from  the  person  who  had  charge  of  it."  As  he 
spoke,  he  laid  upon  the  dressing-table  Dolly's  last  epistle. 
The  very  letter  that  had  cost  her  so  much  trouble. 

"  Did  3' ou  obtain  this  by  force,  my  good  fellow  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Chester,  casting  his  eye  upon  it  without  the  least  perceptible 
surprise  or  pleasure. 

"  Not  quite,"  said  Hugh.     "  Partly." 

"  Who  was  the  messenger  from  whom  you  took  it  ?  " 

"  A  woman.     One  Yarden's  daughter." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  said  Mr.  Chester,  gayly.  "  What  else  did 
you  take  from  her  ?  " 

"  What  else  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  in  a  drawling  manner,  for  he  was 
fixing  a  very  small  patch  of  sticking-plaster  on  a  very  small 
pimple  near  the  corner  of  his  mouth.     "  What  else  ?  " 

"  Well  —  a  kiss,"  replied  Hugh,  after  some  hesitation. 

"  And  what  else  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  in  the  same  easy  tone,  and 
smiling  twice  or  thrice  to  try  if  the  patch  adhered  —  "I  think 
there  was  something  else.  I  have  heard  a  trifle  of  jewellery 
spoken  of  —  a  mere  trifle  — a  thing  of  such  little  value,  indeed, 
that  you  may  have  forgotten  it.  Do  you  remember  anything 
of  the  kind  —  such  as  a  bracelet  now,  for  instance  ?  " 

Hugh  with  a  muttered  oath  thrust  his  hand  into  his  breast, 
and  drawing  the  bracelet  forth,  wrapped  in  a  scrap  of  hay, 
was  about  to  lay  it  on  the  table  likewise,  when  his  patron 
stopped  his  hand  and  bade  him  put  it  up  again. 

"  You  took  that  for  yourself,  my  excellent  friend/'  he  said. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  201 

"and  may  keep  it.  I  am  neither  a  thief,  nor  a  receiver. 
Don't  show  it  to  me.  You  had  better  hide  it  again,  and  lose 
no  time.  Don't  let  me  see  where  you  put  it  either,"  he  added, 
turning  away  his  head. 

"  You're  not  a  receiver  !  "  said  Hugh  bluntly,  despite  the 
increasing  awe  in  which  he  held  him.  "  What  do  you  call 
that,  master  ?  "  striking  the  letter  with  his  heavy  hand. 

"  I  call  that  quite  another  thing,"  said  Mr.  Chester  coolly. 
"  I  shall  prove  it  presently,  as  you  will  see.  You  are  thirsty, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

Hugh  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  lips,  and  gruffly  answered 
yes. 

"  Step  to  that  closet,  and  bring  me  a  bottle  you  will  see 
there,  and  a  glass." 

He  obeyed.  His  patron  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and 
when  his  back  was  turned,  smiled  as  he  had  never  done  when 
he  stood  beside  the  mirror.  On  his  return,  he  filled  the  glass 
and  bade  him  drink.  That  dram  despatched,  he  poured  him 
out  another,  and  another. 

"  How  many  can  you  bear  ? "  he  said,  filling  the  glass 
again. 

"  As  man}^  as  you  like  to  give  me.  Pour  on.  Fill  high. 
A  bumper  with  a  bead  in  the  middle  !  Give  me  enough  of 
this,"  he  added,  as  he  tossed  it  down  his  hairy  throat,  "  and 
I'll  do  murder  if  you  ask  me  !  " 

"  As  I  don't  mean  to  ask  you,  and  you  might  possibly  do  it 
without  being  invited  if  you  went  on  much  further,"  said  Mr. 
Chester  with  great  composure,  "  we  will  stop,  if  agreeable  to 
you  my  good  friend,  at  the  next  glass.  —  You  were  drinking 
before  you  came  here." 

"  I  always  am  when  I  can  get  it,"  cried  Hugh  boisterously, 
waving  the  empty  glass  above  his  head,  and  throwing  himself 
into  a  rude  dancing  attitude.  "  I  alwaj's  am.  Why  not  ? 
Ha  ha  ha !  What's  so  good  to  me  as  tliis  ?  Wliat  ever  has 
been  ?  What  else  has  kept  away  the  cold  on  bitter  nights, 
and  driven  hunger  off  in  starving  times  ?  What  else  has 
given  me  the  strength  and  courage  of  a  man,  when  men 
would  have  left  me  to  die,  a  puny  chihl  ?  I  should  never 
have  had  a  man's  heart  but  for  this.     I  should  have  died  in 


202  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

a  ditch.  "Where's  he  who  when  I  Avas  a  weak  and  sickly 
wretch,  with  trembling  legs  and  fading  sight,  bade  me  cheer 
up,  as  this  did  ?  I  never  knew  him ;  not  I.  I  drink  to  the 
drink,  master.     Ha  ha  ha  !  " 

"  You  are  an  exceedingly  cheerful  young  man,"  said  ]\Ir. 
Chester,  putting  on  his  cravat  with  great  deliberation,  and 
slightly  moving  his  head  from  side  to  side  to  settle  his  chin 
in  its  proper  place.     "  Quite  a  boon  companion." 

"Do  you  see  this  hand,  master,"  said  Hugh,  ^'and  this 
arm  ?  "  baring  the  brawny  limb  to  the  elbow.  ^'  It  was  once 
mere  skin  and  bone,  and  would  have  been  dust  in  some  poor 
churchyard  by  this  time,  but  for  the  drink." 

"You  may  cover  it,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "it's  sufficiently 
real  in  your  sleeve." 

"  I  should  never  have  been  spirited  up  to  take  a  kiss  from 
the  proud  little  beauty,  master,  but  for  the  drink,"  cried 
Hugh.  "  Ha  ha  ha !  It  was  a  good  one.  As  sweet  as 
honeysuckle  I  warrant  you.  I  thank  the  drink  for  it.  I'll 
drink  to  the  drink  again,  master.  Fill  me  one  more.  Come. 
One  more  ! " 

"  You  are  such  a  promising  fellow,"  said  his  patron,  putting 
on  his  waistcoat  with  great  nicety,  and  taking  no  heed  of 
this  request,  "  that  I  must  caution  you  against  having  too 
many  impulses  from  the  drink,  and  getting  hung  before  your 
time.     What's  your  age  ?  " 

"I  don't  know." 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "you  are  j^oung  enough 
to  escape  what  I  may  call  a  natural  death  for  some  years  to 
come.  How  can  you  trust  yourself  in  my  hands  on  so  short 
an  acquaintance,  with  a  halter  round  your  neck.  What  a  con- 
fiding nature  yours  must  be  !  " 

Hugh  fell  back  a  pace  or  two  and  surveyed  him  with  a  look 
of  mingled  terror,  indignation,  and  surprise.  Regarding  him- 
self in  the  glass  with  the  same  complacency  as  before,  and 
speaking  as  smoothly  as  if  he  were  discussing  some  pleasant 
chit-chat  of  the  town,  his  patron  went  on,  — 

"Kobbery  on  the  king's  highway,  my  young  friend,  is  a 
very  dangerous  and  ticklish  occupation.  It  is  pleasant,  I  have 
no  doubt,  while  it  lasts  ;  but  like  many  other  pleasures  in 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  203 

this  transitory  world,  it  seldom  lasts  long.  And  really  if,  in 
the  ingenuousness  of  youth,  you  open  your  heart  so  readily  on 
the  subject,  I  am  afraid  your  career  will  be  an  extremely 
short  one. 'I 

"How's  this?"  said  Hugh.  "What  do  you  talk  of, 
master  ?     AYho  was  it  set  me  on  ?  " 

"Who?"'  said  Mr.  Chester,  wheeling  sharply  round,  and 
looking  full  at  him  for  the  first  time.  "  I  didn't  hear  you. 
Who  was  it  ?  " 

Hugh  faltered,  and  muttered  something  which  was  not 
audible. 

"Who  was  it?  I  am  curious  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
with  surpassing  affability.  "  Some  rustic  beauty,  perhaps  ? 
But  be  cautious,  my  good  friend.  They  are  not  always  to  be 
trusted.  Do  take  my  advice  now,  and  be  careful  of  yourself." 
With  these  words  he  turned  to  the  glass  again,  and  went  on 
with  his  toilet. 

Hugh  would  have  answered  him  that  he,  the  questioner 
himself,  had  set  him  on,  but  the  words  stuck  in  his  throat. 
The  consummate  art  with  which  his  patron  had  led  him  to 
this  point,  and  managed  the  whole  conversation,  perfectly 
baffled  him.  He  did  not  doubt  that  if  he  had  made  the  retort 
which  was  on  his  lips  when  Mr.  Chester  turned  round  and 
questioned  him  so  keenly,  he  would  straightway  have  given 
him  into  custody  and  had  him  dragged  before  a  justice  with 
the  stolen  property  upon  him  :  in  which  case  it  was  as  certain 
he  would  have  been  hung  as  it  was  that  he  had  been  born. 
The  ascendency  which  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  man  of  the 
world  to  establish  over  this  savage  instrument,  was  gained 
from  that  time.  Hugh's  submission  was  complete.  He 
dreaded  him  beyond  description ;  and  felt  that  accident  and 
artifice  had  spun  a  web  about  him,  which  at  a  touch  from 
such  a  master  hand  as  his,  would  bind  him  to  the  gallows. 

With  these  thoughts  passing  through  his  mind,  and  yet 
wondering  at  the  very  same  time  how  he  wlio  came  there 
rioting  in  the  confidence  of  this  man  (as  lie  thouglit),  sliould 
be  so  soon  and  so  thoroughly  subdued,  Hugh  stood  cowering 
before  him,  regarding  him  uneasily  from  time  to  time,  while 
he  finished  dressing.     When  he  had  done  so,  he  took  up  the 


204  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

letter,  broke  the  seal,  and  throwing  himself  back  in  his  chair, 
read  it  leisurely  through. 

"  Very  neatly  worded  upon  my  life  !  Quite  a  woman's 
letter,  full  of  what  people  call  tenderness,  and  disinterested- 
ness, and  heart,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  ! " 

As  he  spoke,  he  twisted  it  up,  and  glancing  lazily  round  at 
Hugh  as  though  he  would  say  "  You  see  this  ?  "  held  it  in 
the  flame  of  the  candle.  When  it  was  in  a  full  blaze,  he 
tossed  it  into  the  grate,  and  there  it  smouldered  away. 

"It  was  directed  to  my  son,"  he  said,  turning  to  Hugh, 
"  and  you  did  quite  right  to  bring  it  here.  I  opened  it  on  my 
own  responsibility,  and  you  see  what  I  have  done  w4th  it. 
Take  this,  for  your  trouble." 

Hugh  stepped  forward  to  receive  the  piece  of  money  he  held 
out  to  him.     As  he  put  it  in  his  hand,  he  added,  — 

"If  you  should  happen  to  find  anything  else  of  this  sort,  or 
to  pick  up  any  kind  of  information  you  may  think  I  would 
like  to  have,  bring  it  here,  will  you,  my  good  fellow  ?  " 

This  was  said  w4th  a  smile  which  implied  —  or  Hugh  thought 
it  did  —  "  fail  to  do  so  at  your  peril !  "  He  answered  that  he 
would. 

"And  don't,"  said  his  patron,  with  an  air  of  the  very 
kindest  patronage,  "don't  be  at  all  downcast  or  uneasy 
respecting  that  little  rashness  we  have  been  speaking  of. 
Your  neck  is  as  safe  in  my  hands,  my  good  fellow,  as  though 
a  baby's  fingers  clasped  it,  I  assure  you.  —  Take  another  glass. 
You  are  quieter  now." 

Hugh  accepted  it  from  his  hand,  and  looking  stealthily 
at  his  smiling  face,  drank  the  contents  in  silence. 

"'  Don't  you  —  ha,  ha !  —  don't  you  drink  to  the  drink  any 
more  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester  in  his  most  winning  manner. 

"  To  you,  sir,"  was  the  sullen  answer,  with  something  ap- 
proaching to  a  bow.     "  I  drink  to  you." 

"  Thank  you.  God  bless  you.  By-the-by,  what  is  jonv 
name,  my  good  soul  ?  You  are  called  Hugh,  I  know,  of 
course  — your  other  name  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  other  name." 

"  A  very  strange  fellow  !  Do  you  mean  that  you  never 
knew  one,  or  that  you  don't  choose  to  tell  it  ?     Which  ?  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  205 

''Td  tell  it  if  I  could,"  said  Hugh  quickly.  "I  cairt. 
I  have  been  always  called  Hugh ;  nothing  more.  I  never 
knew,  nor  saw,  nor  thought  about  a  father ;  and  I  was  a  boy 
of  six  — that's  not  very  old  —  when  they  hung  my  mother  up 
at  Tyburn  for  a  couple  of  thousand  men  to  stare  at.  They 
might  have  let  her  live.     She  was  poor  enough." 

"  How  very  sad ! "  exclaimed  his  patron,  with  a  conde- 
scending smile.  "I  have  no  doubt  she  was  an  exceedingly 
fine  woman." 

"  You  see  that  dog  of  mine  ?  "  said  Hugh,  abruptly. 

"  Faithful,  I  dare  say  ?  "  rejoined  his  patron,  looking  at 
him  through  his  glass  ;  ''  and  immensely  clever  ?  Virtuous 
and  gifted  animals,  whether  man  or  beast,  always  are  so  very 
hideous." 

"  Such  a  dog  as  that,  and  one  of  the  same  breed,  was  the 
only  living  thing  except  me  that  howled  that  day,"  said 
Hugh.  "  Out  of  the  two  thousand  odd  —  there  was  a  larger 
crowd  for  its  being  a  woman  —  the  dog  and  I  alone  had  any 
pity.  If  he'd  have  been  a  man,  he'd  have  been  glad  to  be 
quit  of  her,  for  she  had  been  forced  to  keep  him  lean  and 
half-starved ;  but  being  a  dog,  and  not  having  a  man's  sense, 
he  was  sorry." 

"  It  was  dull  of  the  brute,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
"  and  very  like  a  brute." 

Hugh  made  no  rejoinder,  but  whistling  to  his  dog,  who 
sprung  up  at  the  sound  and  came  jumping  and  sporting  about 
him,  bade  his  sympathizing  friend  good-night. 

"Good-night,"  he  returned.  "Remember;  you're  safe 
with  me  —  quite  safe.  So  long  as  you  deserve  it,  my  good 
fellow,  as  I  hope  you  always  will,  you  have  a  friend  in  me,  on 
whose  silence  you  may  rely.  I^ow  do  be  careful  of  yourself, 
pray  do,  and  consider  what  jeopardy  you  might  have  stood  in. 
Good-night !  bless  you." 

Hugh  truckled  before  the  hidden  meaning  of  these  words 
as  much  as  such  a  being  could,  and  crept  out  of  the  door  so 
submissively  and  subserviently  —  with  an  air,  in  short,  so 
different  from  that  with  which  he  had  entered — that  his 
patron  on  being  left  alone,  smiled  more  than  ever. 

"And  yet,"  he  said,  as  he  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  "  I  do  not 


206  SARNABY  nuDGE. 

like  their  having  hanged  his  mother.  The  fellow  has  a  fine 
eye,  and  I  am  sure  she  was  handsome.  But  very  probably 
she  was  coarse  —  red-nosed  perhaps,  and  had  clumsy  feet. 
Ay,  it  was  all  for  the  best,  no  doubt." 

With  this  comforting  reflection,  he  put  on  his  coat,  took  a 
farewell  glance  at  the  glass,  and  summoned  his  man,  who 
promptly  attended,  followed  by  a  chair  and  its  two  bearers. 

'-  Foh  !  "  said  Mr.  Chester.  '^  The  very  atmosphere  that 
centaur  has  breathed,  seems  tainted  with  the  cart  and  ladder. 
Here,  Peak.  Bring  some  scent  and  sprinkle  the  floor ;  and 
take  away  the  chair  he  sat  upon,  and  air  it ;  and  dash  a  little 
of  that  mixture  u])on  me.     I  am  stifled  ! " 

The  man  obeyed  ;  and  the  room  and  its  master  being  both 
purified,  nothing  remained  for  Mr.  Chester,  but  to  demand  his 
hat,  to  fold  it  jauntily  under  his  arm,  to  take  his  seat  in  the 
chair  and  be  carried  off ;  humming  a  fashionable  tune. 


BAttNABY  BUDGE.  ^0' 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  the  accomplislied  gentleman  spent  the  evening  in  the 
midst  of  a  dazzling  and  brilliant  circle ;  how  he  enchanted  all 
those  with  whom  he  mingled  by  the  grace  of  his  deportment, 
the  politeness  of  his  manner,  the  vivacity  of  his  conversation, 
and  the  sweetness  of  his  voice  ;  how  it  was  observed  in  every 
corner,  that  Chester  was  a  man  of  that  happy  disposition 
that  nothing  ruffled  him,  that  he  was  one  on  whom  the 
world's  cares  and  errors  sat  lightly  as  his  dress,  and  in  whose 
smiling  face  a  calm  and  tranquil  mind  was  constantly  re- 
flected ;  how  honest  men,  who  by  instinct  knew  him  better, 
bowed  down  before  him,  nevertheless,  deferred  to  his  every 
word,  and  courted  his  favorable  notice ;  how  people,  who 
really  had  good  in  them,  went  with  the  stream,  and  fawned 
and  flattered,  and  approved,  and  despised  themselves  while 
they  did  so,  and  yet  had  not  the  courage  to  resist;  how,  in 
short,  he  was  one  of  those  who  are  received  and  cherished 
in  society  (as  the  phrase  is)  by  scores  who  individually  would 
shrink  from  and  be  repelled  by  the  object  of  their  lavisli 
regard ;  are  things  of  course,  which  will  suggest  tliemselves. 
Matter  so  commonplace  needs  but  a  passing  glance,  and  there 
an  end. 

The  despisers  of  mankind  —  apart  from  the  mere  fools  and 
mimics,  of  that  creed — are  of  two  sorts.  They  who  believe 
their  merit  neglected  and  unappreciated,  make  up  one  class ; 
they  who  receive  adulation  and  flattery,  knowing  their  own 
worthlessness,  compose  the  other.  Be  sure  that  the  coldest- 
hearted  misanthropes  are  ever  of  this  last  order. 

Mr.  Chester  sat  up  in  bed  next  morning,  sipping  his  coffee, 
and  remembering  with  a  kind  of  contemptuous  satisfaction 
how  he  had  shone  last  night,  and  how  he  had  been  caressed 
and  courted,  when  his  servant  brought  in  a  very  small  scrap 
of  dirty  paper,  tightly  sealed  in  two   places,   on   the  inside 


208  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

whereof  was  inscribed  in  pretty  large  text  these  words  :  "  A 
friend.  Desiring  of  a  conference.  Immediate.  Private. 
Burn  it  when  you've  read  it." 

"  Where  in  the  name  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot  did  you  pick 
up  this  ?  "  said  his  master. 

It  was  given  him  by  a  person  then  waiting  at  the  door,  the 
man  replied. 

"  With  a  cloak  and  dagger  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

With  nothing  more  threatening  about  him,  it  appeared, 
than  a  leather  apron  and  a  dirty  face.  "Let  him  come  in." 
In  he  came  —  Mr.  Tappertit ;  with  his  hair  still  on  end,  and  a 
great  lock  in  his  hand,  which  he  put  down  on  the  floor  in  the 
middle  of  tlie  chamber  as  if  he  were  about  to  go  through  some 
performances  in  which  it  was  a  necessary  agent. 

"Sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  with  a  low  bow,  "I  thank  you 
for  this  condescension,  and  am  glad  to  see  you.  Pardon  the 
menial  office  in  which  I  am  engaged,  sir,  and  extend  your 
sympathies  to  one,  who,  humble  as  his  appearance  is,  has 
inn'ard  workings  far  above  his  station.'' 

IVIr.  Chester  held  the  bed-curtain  farther  back,  and  looked 
at  him  with  a  vague  impression  that  he  was  some  maniac, 
who  had  not  only  broken  open  the  door  of  his  place  of 
confinement,  but  had  brought  away  the  lock.  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit bowed  again,  and  displayed  his  legs  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. 

"  You  have  heard,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  breast,  "  of  G.  Varden  Locksmith  and  bell-hanger 
and  repairs  neatly  executed  in  town  and  country,  Clerkenwell, 
London  ?  " 

"  What,  then  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Chester. 

"  I  am  his  'prentice,  sir." 

"What  then?'' 

"  Ahem  ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  Would  you  permit  me 
to  shut  the  door,  sir,  and  will  you  further,  sir,  give  me  your 
honor  bright,  that  what  passes  between  us  is  in  the  strictest 
confidence  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  laid  himself  calmly  down  in  bed  again,  and 
turning  a  perfectly  undisturbed  face  towards  the  strange 
apparition,  which  had  by  this  time  closed  the  door,  begged 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  209 

him  to  speak  out,  and  to  be  as  rational  as  he  could,  without 
putting  himself  to  any  very  great  personal  inconvenience. 

"  In  the  first  place,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  producing  a 
small  pocket-handkerchief,  and  shaking  it  out  of  the  folds, 
"as  I  have  not  a  card  about  me  (for  the  envy  of  masters 
debases  us  below  that  level)  allow  me  to  offer  the  best  sub- 
stitute that  circumstances  will  admit  of.  If  you  will  take 
that  in, your  own  hand,  sir,  and  cast  your  eye  on  the  right- 
hand  corner,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  offering  it  with  a  graceful 
air,  "you  will  meet  with  my  credentials." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Mr.  Chester,  politely  accepting, 
and  turning  to  some  blood-red  characters  at  one  end.  "  '  Four. 
Simon  Tappertit.     One.'     Is  that  the  "  — 

"  Without  the  numbers,  sir,  that  is  my  name,"  replied  the 
'prentice.  "They  are  merely  intended  as  directions  to  the 
washerwoman,  and  have  no  connection  with  myself  or  family. 
Your  name,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  looking  very  hard  at  his 
nightcap,  "  is  Chester,  I  suppose  ?  You  needn't  pull  it  off, 
sir,  thank  you.  I  observe  E.  C.  from  here.  We  will  take  the 
rest  for  granted." 

"Pray,  Mr.  Tappertit,"  said  ]\Ir.  Chester,  "has  that  com- 
plicated piece  of  ironmongery  which  you  have  done  me  the 
favor  to  bring  with  3'ou,  any  immediate  connection  with  the 
business  we  are  to  discuss  ?  " 

"It  has  not,  sir,"  rejoined  the 'prentice.  "It's  going  to 
be  fitted  on  a  ware'us  door  in  Thames  Street." 

"Perhaps,  as  that  is  the  case,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "and  as 
it  has  a  stronger  flavor  of  oil  than  I  usually  refresh  my  bed- 
room with,  you  will  oblige  me  so  far  as  to  put  it  outside  the 
door?" 

"  By  all  means,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word. 

"  You'll  excuse  my  mentioning  it,  I  hope  ?  " 

"Don't  apologize,  sir,  I  beg.  And  now,  if  you  please,  to 
business." 

During  the  whole  of  this  dialogue,  Mr.  Chester  had  suffered 
nothing  but  his  smile  of  unvarying  serenity  and  politeness  to 
appear  upon  liis  face.  Sim  Tappertit,  wlio  liad  far  too  good 
an  o[)inion  of  himself  to  suspect  that  anybody  could  be  play- 


210  BAHNABY  BUDGE. 

ing  upon  him,  thouglit  within  himself  that  this  was  some- 
thing like  the  respect  to  which  he  was  entitled,  and  drew  a 
comparison  from  this  courteous  demeanor  of  a  stranger,  by  no 
means  favorable  to  the  worthy  locksmith. 

"  From  what  passes  in  our  house,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  "  I 
am  aware,  sir,  that  your  son  keeps  company  with  a  young 
lady  against  your  inclinations.  Sir,  your  son  has  not  used 
me  well." 

"Mr.  Tappertit,"  said  the  other,  "you  grieve  me  beyond 
description." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  replied  the  'prentice.  "  I'm  glad  to 
hear  you  say  so.  He's  very  proud,  sir,  is  your  son ;  very 
haughty." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  is  haughty,"  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Do  you 
know  I  was  really  afraid  of  that  before  ;  and  you  confirm- 
me  ?  " 

"To  recount  the  menial  offices  I've  had  to  do  for  your 
son,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit ;  ''  the  chairs  I've  had  to  hand 
him,  the  coaches  I've  had  to  call  for  him,  the  numerous  de- 
grading duties,  wholly  unconnected  with  my  indenters,  that 
I've  had  to  do  for  him,  would  fill  a  family  Bible.  Besides 
which,  sir,  he  is  but  a  young  man  himself,  and  I  do  not 
consider  'thank'ee,  Sim,'  a  proper  form  of  address  on  those 
occasions." 

"  Mr.  Tappertit,  your  wisdom  is  beyond  your  years.  Pray 
go  on." 

"I  thank  you  for  your  good  opinion,  sir,"  said  Sim,  much 
gratified,  "and  will  endeavor  so  to  do.  Now,  sir,  on  this 
account  (and  perhaps  for  another  reason  or  two  which  I 
needn't  go  into)  I  am  on  your  side.  And  what  I  tell  you  is 
this  —  that  as  long  as  our  people  go  backwards  and  forwards, 
to  and  fro,  up  and  down,  to  that  there  jolly  old  Maypole, 
lettering,  and  messaging,  and  fetching  and  carrying,  you 
couldn't  help  your  son  keeping  company  with  that  young  lady 
by  deputy, — not  if  he  was  minded  night  and  day  by  all  the 
Horse  Guards,  and  every  man  of  'em,  in  the  very  fullest 
uniform." 

Mr.  Tappertit  stopped  to  take  breath  after  this,  and  then 
started  fresh  again. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  211 

"  N'ow,  sir,  I  am  a-coming  to  the  point.  You  will  inquire  of 
me,  '  how  is  this  to  be  prevented  ?  '  I'll  tell  you  how.  If 
an  honest,  civil,  smiling  gentleman  like  you ''  — 

"  Mr.  Tappertit  —  really  "  — 

"  No,  no,  I'm  serious,"  rejoined  the  'prentice,  "  I  am,  upon 
my  soul.  If  an  honest,  civil,  smiling  gentlefnan  like  you, 
was  to  talk  but  ten  minutes  to  our  old  woman  —  that's  Mrs. 
Varden  —  and  flatter  her  up  a  bit,  you'd  gain  her  over  for- 
ever. Then  there's  this  point  got  —  that  her  daughter  Dolly," 
—  here  a  flush  came  over  Mr.  Tappertit's  face  —  "  wouldn't  be 
allowed  to  be  a  go-between  from  that  time  forward ;  and  till 
that  point's  got,  there's  nothing  ever  will  prevent  her.  Mind 
that." 

"  Mr.  Tappertit,  your  knowledge  of  human  nature  "  — 

"Wait  a  minute,"  said  Sim,  folding  his  arms  with  a 
dreadful  calmness.  "  Kow,  I  come  to  the  point.  Sir,  there 
is  a  villain  at  that  Maypole,  a  monster  in  human  shape,  a 
vagabond  of  the  deepest  dye,  that  unless  you  get  rid  of, 
and  have  kidnapped  and  carried  off  at  the  very  least  — 
nothing  less  will  do — will  marry  your  son  to  that  young 
woman,  as  certainly  and  surely  as  if  he  was  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  himself.  He  will,  sir,  for  the  hatred  and 
malice  that  he  bears  to  you ;  let  alone  the  pleasure  of  doing 
a  bad  action,  which  to  him  is  its  own  reward.  If  you  knew 
how  this  chap,  this  Joseph  Willet  —  that's  his  name  —  comes 
backwards  and  forwards  to  our  house,  libelling,  and  de- 
nouncing, and  threatening  you,  and  how  I  shudder  when  I 
hear  him,  you'd  hate  him  worse  than  I  do,  —  worse  than  I  do, 
sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  wildly,  putting  his  hair  up  straighter, 
and  making  a  crunching  noise  with  his  teeth;  "if  sich  a 
thing  is  possible." 

"  A  little  private  vengeance  in  this,  Mr.  Tappertit  ?  " 

"Private  vengeance,  sir,  or  public  sentiment,  or  both  com- 
bined—  destroy  him,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "Miggs  says 
so  too.  Miggs  and  me  both  say  so.  We  can't  bear  tlie 
plotting  and  undermining  that  takes  place.  Our  souls  recoil 
from  it.  Barnaby  Rudge  and  Mrs.  Rudge  are  in  it  like- 
wise ;  but  the  villain,  Joseph  Willet,  is  the  ringleader. 
Their  plottings    and   schemes  are  known   to  me  and  Mi 


'oo 


212  BABXABY  BUDGE. 

If  you  want  information  of  'em,  apply  to  us.  Put  Joseph 
Willet  down,  sir.  Destroy  him.  Crush  him.  And  be 
happy." 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Tappertit,  who  seemed  to  expect  no 
reph^  and  to  hold  it  as  a  necessary  consequence  of  his  elo- 
quence that  his  hearer  should  be  utterly  stunned,  dumb- 
foundered,  and  overwhelmed,  folded  his  arms  so  that  the 
palm  of  each  hand  rested  on  the  opposite  shoulder,  and  dis- 
appeared after  the  manner  of  those  mysterious  warners  of 
whom  he  had  read  in  cheap  story-books. 

"  That  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  relaxing  his  face  when  he 
was  fairly  gone,  "  is  good  practice.  I  have  some  command  of 
my  features,  beyond  all  doubt.  He  fully  confirms  what  I 
suspected,  though ;  and  blunt  tools  are  sometimes  found  of 
use,  where  sharper  instruments  would  fail.  I  fear  I  may  be 
obliged  to  make  great  havoc  among  these  worthy  people.  A 
troublesome  necessity  !     I  quite  feel  for  them." 

With  that  he  fell  into  a  quiet  slumber :  —  subsided  into 
such  a  gentle,  pleasant  sleep,  that  it  was  quite  infantine. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  213 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Leaving  the  favored,  and  well-received,  and  flattered  of 
the  world;  him  of  the  world  most  worldly,  who  never  com- 
promised himself  by  an  ungentlemanly  action,  and  never  was 
guilty  of  a  manly  one  ;  to  lie  smilingly  asleep  —  for  even  sleep, 
working  but  little  change  in  his  dissembling  face,  became 
with  him  a  piece  of  cold,  conventional  hypocrisy  —  we  follow 
in  the  steps  of  two  slow  travellers  on  foot,  making  towards 
Chigwell. 

Barnaby  and  his  mother.     Grip  in  their  company  of  course. 

The  widow,  to  whom  each  painful  mile  seemed  longer  than 
the  last,  toiled  wearily  along ;  while  Barnaby,  yielding  to 
every  inconstant  impulse,  fluttered  here  and  there,  now  leav- 
ing her  far  behind,  now  lingering  far  behind  himself,  now 
darting  into  some  by-lane  or  path  and  leaving  her  to  pursue 
her  way  alone,  until  he  stealthily  emerged  again  and  came 
upon  her  with  a  wild  shout  of  merriment,  as  his  wayward  and 
capricious  nature  prompted.  Now  he  would  call  to  her  from 
the  topmost  branch  of  some  high  tree  by  the  roadside ;  now, 
using  his  tall  staff  as  a  leaping-pole,  come  flying  over  ditch  or 
hedge  or  flve-barred  gate ;  now  run  with  surprising  swiftness 
for  a  mile  or  more  on  the  straight  road,  and  halting,  sport 
upon  a  patch  of  grass  with  Grip  till  she  came  up.  These 
were  his  delights ;  and  when  his  patient  mother  heard  his 
merry  voice,  or  looked  into  his  flushed  and  healthy  face,  she 
would  not  have  abated  them  by  one  sad  word  or  murmur, 
though  each  had  been  to  her  a  source  of  suffering  in  the  same 
degree  as  it  was  to  him  of  pleasure. 

It  is  something  to  look  upon  enjoyment,  so  that  it  be  free 
and  wild  and  in  the  face  of  nature,  though  it  is  but  the  enjoy- 
ment of  an  idiot.  It  is  something  to  know  that  Heaven  has 
left  the  ca])acity  of  gladness  in  such  a  creature's  breast;  it  is 
something  to  be  assured  that,  however  lightly  men  may  crush 


214  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

that  faculty  in  their  fellows  the  Great  Creator  of  mankind 
imparts  it  even  to  his  despised  and  slighted  work.  Who 
would  not  rather  see  a  poor  idiot  happy  in  the  sunlight,  than 
a  wise  man  pining  in  a  darkened  jail ! 

Ye  men  of  gloom  and  austerity,  who  paint  the  face  of 
Infinite  Benevolence  with  an  eternal  frown ;  read  in  the 
Everlasting  Book,  wide  open  to  j^our  view,  the  lesson  it  would 
teach.  Its  pictures  are  not  in  black  and  sombre  hues,  but 
bright  and  glowing  tints  ;  its  music  —  save  when  ye  drown  it 

—  is  not  in  sighs  and  groans,  but  songs  and  cheerful  sounds. 
Listen  to  the  million  voices  in  the  summer  air,  and  find  one 
dismal  as  your  own.  Remember,  if  ye  can,  the  sense  of  hope 
and  pleasure  which  every  glad  return  of  day  awakens  in  the 
breast  of  all  your  kind  who  have  not  changed  their  nature  ; 
and  learn  some  wisdom  even  from  the  witless,  when  their 
hearts  are  lifted  up  they  know  not  why,  by  all  the  mirth  and 
happiness  it  brings. 

The  widow's  breast  was  full  of  care,  was  laden  heavilj^  with 
secret  dread  and  sorrow  ;  but  her  boy's  gayety  of  heart  glad- 
dened her,  and  beguiled  the  long  journey.  Sometimes  he 
would  bid  her  lean  upon  his  arm,  and  would  keep  beside  her 
steadily  for  a  short  distance ;  but  it  was  more  his  nature  to 
be  rambling  to  and  fro,  and  she  better  liked  to  see  him  free 
and  happy,  even  than  to  have  him  near  her,  because  she  loved 
him  better  than  herself. 

She  had  quitted  the  place  to  which  they  were  travelling, 
directly  after  the  event  which  had  changed  her  whole  exist- 
ence ;  and  for  two  and  twenty  years  had  never  had  courage 
to  revisit  it.  It  was  her  native  village.  How  many  recollec- 
tions crowded  on  her  mind  when  it  appeared  in  sight ! 

Two  and  twenty  years.  Her  boy's  whole  life  and  history. 
The  last  time  she  looked  back  upon  those  roofs  among  the 
trees,  she  carried  him  in  her  arms,  an  infant.  How  often 
since  that  time  had  she  sat  beside  him  night  and  day,  watch- 
ing for  the  dawn  of  mind  that  never  came ;  how  had  she 
feared,  and  doubted,  and  yet  hoped,  long  after  conviction 
forced  itself  upon  her  I  The  little  stratagems  she  had  devised 
to  try  him,  the  little  tokens  he  had  given  in  his  childish  way 

—  not  of  dulness  but  of  something  infinitely  worse,  so  ghastly 


BABXABY  BUDGE.  215 

and  uncliild-like  in  its  cunning  —  came  back  as  vividly  as  if 
but  yesterday  had  intervened.  The  room  in  which  they  used 
to  be  ;  the  spot  in  whicli  his  cradle  stood ;  he  old  and  elfin- 
like in  face,  but  ever  dear  to  her,  gazing  at  her  with  a  wild 
and  vacant  eye,  and  crooning  some  uncouth  song  as  she  sat 
by  and  rocked  him;  every  circumstance  of  his  infancy  came 
thronging  back,  and  the  most  trivial,  perhaps,  the  most  dis- 
tinctly. 

His  older  childhood,  too ;  the  strange  imaginings  he  had ; 
his  terror  of  certain  senseless  things  —  familiar  objects  he 
endowed  with  life  ;  the  slow  and  gradual  breaking-out  of  that 
one  horror,  in  which,  before  his  birth,  his  darkened  intellect 
began ;  how,  in  the  midst  of  all,  she  had  found  some  hope 
and  comfort  in  his  being  unlike  another  child,  and  had  gone 
on  almost  believing  in  the  slow  development  of  his  mind  until 
he  grew  a  man,  and  then  his  childhood  was  complete  and 
lasting;  one  after  another,  all  these  old  thoughts  sprung  up 
within  her,  strong  after  their  long  slumber  and  bitterer  than 
ever. 

She  took  his  arm  and  they  hurried  through  the  village 
street.  It  was  the  same  as  it  was  wont  to  be  in  old  times, 
yet  different  too,  and  wore  another  air.  The  change  was  in 
herself,  not  it ;  but  she  never  thought  of  tha't,  and  wondered 
at  its  alteration,  and  where  it  lay,  and  what  it  was. 

The  people  all  knew  Barnaby,  and  the  children  of  the  place 
came  flocking  round  him  —  as  she  remembered  to  have  done 
with  their  fathers  and  mothers,  round  some  silly  beggar-man, 
when  a  child  herself.  None  of  them  knew  her ;  they  passed 
each  well-remembered  house,  and  yard,  and  homestead ;  and 
striking  into  the  fields,  were  soon  alone  again. 

The  Warren  was  the  end  of  their  journey.  Mr.  Haredale 
was  walking  in  the  garden,  and  seeing  them  as  they  passed 
the  iron  gate,  unlocked  it,  and  bade  them  enter  that  way. 

"  At  length  you  have  mustered  heart  to  visit  the  old  place," 
he  said  to  tlie  widow.     "  I  am  glad  you  have.'' 

"For  the  first  time,  and  the  last,  sir,"  she  replied. 

"  The  first  for  many  years,  but  not  the  last  ?  " 

"The  very  last." 

"You  mean,"  said  ]\Ir.  Haredale,  regarding  her  with  some 


216  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

surprise,  "  that  having  made  this  effort,  you  are  resolved  not 
to  persevere  and  are  determined  to  relapse  ?  This  is  un- 
worthy of  you.  I  have  often  told  you,  you  should  return 
here.  You  would  be  happier  here  than  elsewhere,  I  know. 
As  to  Brrnaby,  it's  quite  his  home." 

"And  Grip's,"  said  Barnaby,  holding  the  basket  open. 
The  raven  hopped  gravely  out,  and  perching  on  his  shoulder, 
and  addressing  himself  to  Mr.  Haredale,  cried  —  as  a  hint,  per- 
haps, that  some  temperate  refreshment  would  be  acceptable  — 
"  Polly  put  the  ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea !  " 

"Hear  me,  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  kindly,  as  he 
motioned  her  to  walk  with  him  towards  the  house.  "  Your 
life  has  been  an  example  of  patience  and  fortitude,  except  in 
this  one  particular  which  has  often  given  me  great  pain.  It 
is  enough  to  know  that  you  were  cruelly  involved  in  the 
calamity  which  deprived  me  of  an  only  brother,  and  Emma  of 
her  father,  without  being  obliged  to  suppose  (as  I  sometimes 
am)  that  you  associate  us  with  the  author  of  our  joint 
misfortunes." 

"Associate  yoii  with  him,  sir !"  she  cried. 

"Iftdeed,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "I  think  you  do.  I  almost 
believe  that  because  your  husband  was  bound  by  so  many 
ties  to  our  relation,  and  died  in  his  service  and  defence,  you 
have  come  in  some  sort  to  connect  us  with  his  murder." 

"  Alas  !  "  she  answered.  "  You  little  know  my  heart,  sir. 
You  little  know  the  truth  !  " 

"  It  is  natural  you  should  do  so ;  it  is  very  probable  you 
may,  without  being  conscious  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Haredale, 
speaking  more  to  himself  than  her.  "  We  are  a  fallen  house. 
Money,  dispensed  with  the  most  lavish  hand,  would  be  a  poor 
recompense  for  sufferings  like  yours ;  and  thinly  scattered  by 
hands  so  pinched  and  tied  as  ours,  it  becomes  a  miserable 
mockery.  I  feel  it  so,  God  knows,"  he  added  hastily.  "  Why 
should  I  wonder  if  she  does  !  " 

"You  do  me  wrong,  dear  sir,  indeed,"  she  rejoined  with 
great  earnestness ;  "  and  yet  when  you  come  to  hear  what  I 
desire  your  leave  to  say  "  — 

"  I  shall  find  my  doubts  confirmed  ? "  he  said,  observing 
that  she  faltered  and  became  confused.     "  Well  I  " 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  217 

He  quickened  his  pace  for  a  few  steps,  but  fell  back  again 
to  her  side,  and  said,  — 

"  And  have  you  come  all  this  way  at  last,  solely  to  speak 
to  me  ?  " 

She  answered,  "  Yes." 

"A  curse,"  he  muttered,  ^'upon  the  wretched  state  of  us 
proud  beggars,  from  whom  the  poor  and  rich  are  equally  at  a 
distance  ;  the  one  being  forced  to  treat  us  with  a  show  of  cold 
respect ;  the  other  condescending  to  us  in  their  every  deed 
and  word,  and  keeping  more  aloof  the  nearer  they  approach 
us.  —  Why,  if  it  were  pain  to  you  (as  it  must  have  been)  to 
break  for  this  slight  purpose  the  chain  of  habit  forged  through 
two  and  twenty  years,  could  you  not  let  me  know  your  wish, 
and  beg  me  to  come  to  you  ?  " 

"There  was  not  time,  sir,"  she  rejoined.  "I  took  my 
resolution  but  last  night,  and  taking  it,  felt  that  I  must  not 
lose  a  day  —  a  day  !  an  hour  —  in  having  speech  with  you." 

•They  had  by  this  time  reached  the  house.  Mr.  Haredale 
paused  for  a  moment  and  looked  at  her  as  if  surprised  by  the 
energy  of  her  manner.  Observing,  however,  that  she  took  no 
heed  of  him,  but  glanced  up,  shuddering,  at  the  old  walls 
with  which  such  horrors  were  connected  in  her  mind,  he  led 
her  by  a  private  stair  into  his  library,  where  Emma  was 
seated  in  a  window,  reading. 

The  young  lady,  seeing  who  approached,  hastily  rose  and 
laid  aside  her  book,  and  with  many  kind  words,  and  not 
without  tears,  gave  her  a  warm  and  earnest  welcome.  But 
the  widow  shrunk  from  her  embrace  as  though  she  feared  her, 
and  sunk  down  trembling  on  a  chair. 

"  It  is  the  return  to  this  place  after  so  long  an  absence," 
said  Emma  gently.  "Pray  ring,  dear  uncle  —  or  stay  — 
Barnaby  will  run  himself  and  ask  for  wine  "  — 

"  Not  for  the  world,"  she  cried.  "  It  would  have  another 
taste  —  I  could  not  touch  it.  I  want  but  a  minute's  rest. 
Nothing  but  that." 

Miss  Haredale  stood  beside  her  chair,  regarding  her  with 
silent  pity.  She  remained  for  a  little  time  quite  still ;  then 
rose  and  turned  to  Mr.  Haredale,  who  liad  sat  down  in  his 
easy-chair,  and  was  contemplating  her  with  fixed  attention. 


218  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

The  tale  connected  with  the  mansion  borne  in  mind,  it 
seemed,  as  has  been  already  said,  the  chosen  theatre  for  such 
a  deed  as  it  had  known.  The  room  in  which  this  group  were 
now  assembled  —  hard'by  the  very  chamber  where  the  act  was 
done  —  dull,  dark,  and  sombre  ;  heavy  with  worm-eaten  books  ; 
deadened  and  shut  in  by  faded  hangings,  muffling  every 
sound ;  shadowed  mournfully  by  trees  whose  rustling  boughs 
gave  ever  and  anon  a  spectral  knocking  at  the  glass ;  wore, 
beyond  all  others  in  the  house,  a  ghostly,  gloomy  air.  Nor 
were  the  group  assembled  there,  untitting  tenants  of  the 
spot.  The  widow,  with  her  marked  and  startling  face  and 
downcast  eyes  ;  ^fr.  Haredale  stern  and  despondent  ever;  his 
niece'  beside  him,  like,  yet  most  unlike,  the  picture  of  her 
father,  which  gazed  reproachfully  down  upon  them  from  the 
blackened  wall ;  Barnaby,  with  his  vacant  look  and  restless 
eye ;  were  all  in  keeping  with  the  place,  and  actors  in  the 
legend.  Nay,  the  very  raven,  who  had  hopped  upon  the  table 
and  with  the  air  of  some  old  necromancer  appeared  to  be 
profoundly  studying  a  great  folio  volume  that  lay  open  on  a 
desk,  was  strictly  in  unison  with  the  rest,  and  looked  like  the 
embodied  spirit  of  evil  biding  his  time  of  mischief. 

"  I  scarcely  know,"  said  the  widow,  breaking  silence,  "  how 
to  begin.     You  will  think  my  mind  disordered." 

''The  whole  tenor  of  your  quiet  and  reproachless  life  since 
you  were  last  here,"  returned  Mr.  Haredale,  mildly,  "shall 
bear  witness  for  you.  Why  do  you  fear  to  awaken  such  a 
suspicion  ?  You  do  not  speak  to  strangers.  You  have  not 
to  claim  our  interest  or  consideration  for  the  first  time.  Be 
more  yourself.  Take  heart.  Any  advice  or  assistance  that 
I  can  give  you,  you  know  is  yours  of  right,  and  freely 
yours." 

"  What  if  I  came,  sir,"  she  rejoined,  "  I  who  have  but 
one  other  friend  on  earth,  to  reject  your  aid  from  this  moment, 
and  to  say  that  henceforth  I  launch  myself  upon  the  world, 
alone  and  unassisted,  to  sink  or  swim  as  Heaven  may 
decree  !  " 

"  You  would  have,  if  you  came  to  me  for  such  a  purpose," 
said  Mr.  Haredale  calmly,  "  some  reason  to  assign  for  conduct 
so  extraordinary,  which  —  if  one  may  entertain  the  possibility 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  219 

of  anything  so  wild  and  strange — would  have  its  weight,  of 
course." 

"That,  sir,"  she  answered,  "is  the  misery  of  my  distress. 
I  can  give  no  reason  whatever.  IVIy  own  bare  word  is  all 
that  I  can  offer.  It  is  my  duty,  my  imperative  and  bounden 
duty.  If  I  did  not  discharge  it,  I  should  be  a  base  and  guilty 
wretch.  Having  said  that,  my  lips  are  sealed,  and  I  can  say 
no  more." 

As  though  she  felt  relieved  at  having  said  so  much,  and 
had  nerved  herself  to  the  remainder  of  her  task,  she  spoke 
from  this  time  with  a  firmer  voice  and  heightened  courage. 

"  Heaven  is  my  witness,  as  my  own  heart  is  —  and  yours, 
dear  young  lady,  will  speak  for  me  I  know  —  that  I  have 
lived,  since  that  time  we  all  have  bitter  reason  to  remember, 
in  unchanging  devotion,  and  gratitude  to  this  family. 
Heaven  is  my  witness  that  go  where  I  may,  I  shall  preserve 
those  feelings  unimpaired.  And  it  is  my  witness,  too,  that 
they  alone  impel  me  to  the  course  I  must  take,  and  from  which 
nothing  now  shall  turn  me,  as  I  hope  for  mercy." 

"  These  are  strange  riddles,"  said  Mr.  Haredale. 

"  In  this  world,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  they  may  perhaps,  never 
be  explained.  In  another,  the  Truth  will  be  discovered  in 
its  own  good  time.  And  may  that  time,"  she  added  in  a  low 
voice,  "  be  far  distant !  " 

"Let  me  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "that  I  understand 
you,  for  I  am  doubtful  of  my  own  senses.  Do  you  mean 
that  you  are  resolved  voluntarily  to  deprive  yourself  of  those 
means  of  support  you  have  received  from  us  so  long  —  that 
you  are  determined  to  resign  the  annuity  we  settled  on  you 
twenty  years  ago  —  to  leave  house,  and  home,  and  goods,  and 
begin  life  anew  —  and  this,  for  some  secret  reason  or  monstrous 
fancy  which  is  incapable  of  explanation,  which  only  now  ex- 
ists, and  has  been  dormant  all  this  time  ?  In  the  name  of 
God,  under  wdiat  delusion  are  you  laboring  ?  " 

"  As  I  am  deeply  thankful,"  she  made  answer,  "  for  the 
kindness  of  those,  alive  and  dead,  who  have  owned  this  house  ; 
and  as  I  would  not  have  its  roof  fall  down  and  crush  me  or 
its  very  w^alls  drip  blood,  my  name  being  spoken  in  tlieir 
hearing  ;  I  never  will  again  subsist  upon  their  bounty,  or  let 


220  BABNABY  BULGE. 

it  help  me  to  subsistence.  You  do  not  know,"  she  added 
suddenly,  "  to  what  uses  it  may  be  applied ;  into  what  hands 
it  may  pass.     I  do,  and  I  renounce  it." 

"  Surely,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "  its  uses  rest  with  you." 

<'  They  did.  They  rest  with  me  no  longer.  It  may  be  — 
it  is  —  devoted  to  purposes  that  mock  the  dead  in  their  graves. 
It  never  can  prosper  with  me.  It  will  bring  some  other  heavy 
judgment  on  the  head  of  my  dear  son,  whose  innocence  will 
suffer  for  his  mother's  guilt." 

'*  What  words  are  these  ! "  cried  Mr.  Haredale,  regarding 
her  with  wonder.  "  Among  what  associates  have  you  fallen  ? 
Into  what  guilt  have  you  ever  been  betrayed  ?  " 

"  I  am  guilty,  and  yet  innocent ;  wrong,  yet  right ;  good 
in  intention,  though  constrained  to  shield  and  aid  the  bad. 
Ask  me  no  more  questions,  sir ;  but  believe  that  I  am  rather 
to  be  pitied  than  condemned.  I  must  leave  my  house  to- 
morrow, for  while  I  stay  there  it  is  haunted.  My  future 
dwelling,  if  I  am  to  live  in  peace,  must  be  a  secret.  If  my 
poor  boy  should  ever  stray  this  way,  do  not  tempt  him  to 
disclose  it  or  have  him  watched  when  he  returns ;  for  if  we 
are  hunted,  we  must  fly  again.  And  now  this  load  is  off  my 
mind,  I  beseech  you  —  and  you,  dear  Miss  Haredale,  too  — to 
trust  me  if  you  can,  and  think  of  me  kindly  as  you  have  been 
used  to  do.  If  I  die  and  cannot  tell  my  secret  even  then  (for 
that  may  come  to  pass),  it  will  sit  lighter  on  my  breast 
in  that  hour  for  this  day's  work ;  and  on  that  day  and  every 
day  until  it  comes,  I  will  pray  for  and  thank  you  both,  and 
trouble  you  no  more." 

With  that,  she  would  have  left  them,  but  they  detained 
her,  and  Avith  many  soothing  words  and  kind  entreaties  be- 
sought her  to  consider  what  she  did,  and  above  all  to  repose 
more  freely  upon  them,  and  say  what  weighed  so  sorely  on 
her  mind.  Finding  her  deaf  to  their  persuasions,  Mr. 
Haredale  suggested,  as  a  last  resource,  that  she  should 
confide  in  Emma,  of  whom,  as  a  young  person  and  one  of  her 
own  sex,  she  might  stand  in  less  dread  than  of  himself.  From 
this  proposal,  however,  she  recoiled  with  the  same  indescrib- 
able repugnance  she  had  manifested  when  they  met.  The 
utmost  that  could  be  wrung  from  her  was,  a  promise  that  she 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  221 

would  receive  Mr.  Haredale  at  her  ovv'ii  house  next  evening, 
and  in  the  mean  time  reconsider  her  determination  and  their 
dissuasions  —  though  any  change  on  her  part,  as  she  told 
them,  was  quite  hopeless.  This  condition  made  at  last,  they 
reluctantly  suffered  her  to  depart,  since  she  would  neither  eat 
nor  drink  within  the  house ;  and  she,  and  Barnaby,  and  Grip, 
accordingly  went  out  as  they  had  come,  by  the  private  stair 
and  garden  gate ;  seeing  and  being  seen  of  no  one  by  the 
way. 

It  was  remarkable  in  the  raven  that  during  the  whole 
interview  he  had  kept  his  eye  on  his  book  with  exactly  the 
air  of  a  very  sly  human  rascal,  who,  under  the  mask  of  pre- 
tending to  read  hard,  was  listening  to  everything.  He  still 
appeared  to  have  the  conversation  very  strongly  in  his  mind, 
for  although  when  they  were  alone  again,  he  issued  orders 
for  the  instant  preparation  of  innumerable  kettles  for  purposes 
of  tea,  he  was  thoughtful,  and  rather  seemed  to  do  so  from 
an  abstract  sense  of  duty,  than  with  any  regard  to  making 
himself  agreeable,  or  being  what  is  commonly  called  good 
company. 

They  were  to  return  by  the  coach.  As  there  was  an 
interval  of  full  two  hours  before  it  started,  and  they  needed 
rest  and  some  refreshment,  Barnaby  begged  hard  for  a  visit 
to  the  INIaypole.  But  his  mother,  who  had  no  wish  to  be 
recognized  by  any  of  those  who  had  known  her  long  ago,  and 
who  feared  besides  that  Mr.  Haredale  might,  on  second 
thoughts,  despatch  some  messenger  to  that  place  of  entertain- 
ment in  quest  of  her,  proposed  to  wait  in  the  church^^ard 
instead.  As  it  was  easy  for  Barnaby  to  buy  and  carry 
thither  such  humble  viands  as  they  required,  he  cheerfully 
assented,  and  in  the  churchyard  they  sat  down  to  take  their 
frugal  dinner. 

Here  again,  the  raven  was  in  a  highly  reflective  state ; 
walking  up  and  down  when  he  had  dined,  with  an  air  of 
elderly  complacency  which  was  strongly  suggestive  of  his 
having  his  hands  under  his  coat-tails ;  and  appearing  to  read 
the  tombstones  with  a  very  critical  taste.  Sometimes,  after  a 
long  inspection  of  an  epitaph,  he  would  strop  his  beak  upon 
the  grave  to  which  it  referred,  and  cry  in  his  hoarse  tones, 


222  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil ! "  but  whether  he 
addressed  his  observations  to  any  supposed  person  below,  or 
merely  threw  them  off  as  a  general  remark,  is  matter  of 
uncertainty. 

It  was  a  quiet  pretty  spot,  but  a  sad  one  for  Barnaby's 
mother;  for  Mr.  Keuben  Haredale  lay  there,  and  near  the 
vault  in  which  his  ashes  rested,  was  a  stone  to  the  memory  of 
her  own  husband,  with  a  brief  inscription  recording  how  and 
when  he  had  lost  his  life.  She  sat  here,  thoughtful  and 
apart,  until  their  time  was  out,  and  the  distant  horn  told  that 
the  coach  was  coming. 

Barnaby,  who  had  been  sleeping  on  the  grass,  sprung  up 
quickly  at  the  sound ;  and  Grip,  who  appeared  to  understand 
it  equally  well,  walked  into  his  basket  straightway,  entreating 
society  in  general  (as  though  he  intended  a  kind  of  satire 
upon  them  in  connection  with  churchyards)  never  to  say  die 
on  any  terms.  They  were  soon  on  the  coach-top  and  rolling 
along  the  road. 

It  went  round  by  the  Maypole,  and  stopped  at  the  door. 
Joe  was  from  home,  and  Hugh  came  sluggishly  out  to  hand 
up  the  parcel  that  it  called  for.  There  was  no  fear  of  old 
John  coming  out.  They  could  see  him  from  the  coach-roof 
fast  asleep  in  his  cosey  bar.  It  was  a  part  of  John's  character. 
He  made  a  point  of  going  to  sleep  at  the  coach's  time.  He 
despised  gadding  about ;  he  looked  upon  coaches  as  things 
that  ought  to  be  indicted ;  as  disturbers  of  the  peace  of  man- 
kind ;  as  restless,  bustling,  busy,  horn-blowing  contrivances, 
quite  beneath  the  dignity  of  men,  and  only  suited  to  giddy 
girls  that  did  nothing  but  chatter  and  go  a-shopping.  "We 
know  nothing  about  coaches  here,  sir,"  John  would  say,  if  any 
unlucky  stranger  made  inquiry  touching  the  offensive  vehicles ; 
"we  don't  book  for  'em;  we'd  rather  not;  they're  more 
trouble  than  they're  worth,  with  their  noise  and  rattle.  If 
you  like  to  wait  for  'em  you  can ;  but  we  don't  know  anything 
about  'em;  they  may  call  and  they  may  not  —  there's  a 
carrier  —  he  was  looked  upon  as  quite  good  enough  for  us, 
when  /  was  a  boy." 

She  dropped  her  veil  as  Hugh  climbed  up,  and  while  he 
hung  behind  and  talked  to  Barnaby  in  whispers.     But  neither 


BARNABY  BUDGE. 

'^^.^ 

he  nor  any  other  person  spoke  to  her,  or  noticed  her,  or  had 

any  curiosity  about  her ;  and  so,  an  alien,  she  visited  and  left 

the  village  where  she  had  been  born,  and  had  lived  a  merry 

child,  a  comely  girl,  a  happy  wife  —  where  she  had  known 

all   her  enjoyment  of  life,  and  had  entered  on  its  hardest 

sorrows. 


BAENABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

"  And  you're  not  surprised  to  hear  this,  Varden  ?  "  said 
I\Ir.  Haredale.  "  Well !  You  and  she  have  ahvays  been  the 
best  friends,  and  you  should  understand  her  if  anybody  does." 

"I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,"  rejoined  the  locksmith.  "I 
didn't  say  I  understood  her.  I  wouldn't  have  the  presumption 
to  say  that  of  any  woman.  It's  not  so  easily  done.  But  I 
am  not  so  much  surprised,  sir,  as  you  expected  me  to  be, 
certainly." 

"  May  I  ask  why  not,  my  good  friend  ?  " 

"I  have  seen,  sir,"  returned  the  locksmith  with  evident 
reluctance,  "I  have  seen  in  connection  with  her,  something 
that  has  filled  me  with  distrust  and  uneasiness.  She  has 
made  bad  friends,  how,  or  when,  I  don't  know  ;  but  that  her 
house  is  a  refuge  for  one  robber  and  cut-throat  at  least,  I  am 
certain.     There,  sir  !     Now  it's  out." 

"  Varden  ! " 

"  My  own  eyes,  sir,  are  my  witnesses,  and  for  her  sake  I 
would  be  willingly  half-blind,  if  I  could  but  have  the  pleasure 
of  mistrusting  'em.  I  have  kept  the  secret  till  now,  and  it 
will  go  no  further  than  yourself,  I  know  ;  but  I  tell  you  that 
with  my  own  eyes  —  broad  awake  —  I  saw,  in  the  passage  of 
her  house  one  evening  after  dark,  the  highwayman  who 
robbed  and  wounded  Mr.  Edward  Chester,  and  on  the  same 
night  threatened  me." 

"And  you  made  no  effort  to  detain  him?"  said  Mr. 
Haredale  quickly. 

"  Sir,"  returned  the  locksmith,  "  she  herself  prevented  me 
—  held  me,  with  all  her  strength,  and  hung  about  me  until  he 
had  got  clear  off."  And  having  gone  so  far,  he  related  circum- 
stantially all  that  had  passed  upon  the  night  in  question. 

This  dialogue  was  held  in  a  low  tone  in  the  locksmith's 
little  parlor  into  which  honest  Gabriel  had  shown  his  visitor 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  225 

on  his  arrival.  Mr.  Haredale  had  called  upon  him  to  entreat 
his  company  to  the  widow's,  that  he  might  have  the  assistance 
of  his  persuasion  and  influence  ;  and  out  of  this  circumstance 
the  conversation  had  arisen. 

"I  forebore,''  said  Gabriel,  "from  repeating  one  word  of 
this  to  anybody,  as  it  could  do  her  no  good  and  might  do  her 
great  harm.  I  thought  and  hoped,  to  say  the  truth,  that  she 
would  come  to  me,  and  talk  to  me  about  it,  and  tell  me  how 
it  was ;  but  though  I  have  purposely  put  myself  in  her  way 
more  than  once  or  twice,  she  has  never  touched  upon  the 
subject  —  except  by  a  look.  And  indeed,"  said  the  good- 
natured  locksmith,  "  there  was  a  good  deal  in  the  look,  more 
than  could  have  been  put  into  a  great  many  w^ords.  It  said 
among  other  matters  ^  Don't  ask  me  anything  '  so  imploringly, 
that  I  didn't  ask  her  anything.  You'll  think  me  an  old  fool 
I  know,  sir.     If  it's  any  relief  to  call  me  one,  pray  do." 

"  I  am  greatly  disturbed  by  what  you  tell  me,"  said  Mr. 
Haredale,  after  a  silence.  "What  meaning  do  you  attach 
to  it  ?  " 

The  locksmith  shook  his  head,  and  looked  doubtfully  out  of 
window  at  the  failing  light. 

"  She  cannot  have  married  again,"  said  Mr.  Haredale. 

"  Not  without  our  knowledge  surely,  sir." 

"She  may  have  done  so,  in  the  fear  that  it  would  lead, 
if  known,  to  some  objection  or  estrangement.  Suppose  she 
married  incautiously —  it  is  not  improbable,  for  her  existence 
has  been  a  lonely  and  monotonous  one  for  many  years  —  and 
the  man  turned  out  a  ruffian,  she  would  be  anxious  to  screen 
him,  and  yet  would  revolt  from  his  crimes.  This  might  be. 
It  bears  strongly  on  the  whole  drift  of  her  discourse  yester- 
day, and  would  quite  explain  her  conduct.  Do  you  suppose 
Barnaby  is  privy  to  these  circumstances  ?  " 

"  Quite  impossible  to  say,  sir,"  returned  the  locksmith, 
shaking  his  head  again :  "  and  next  to  impossible  to  find  out 
from  him.  If  what  you  suppose  is  really  the  case,  I  tremble 
for  the  lad  —  a  notable  person,  sir,  to  put  to  bad  uses  "  — 

"  It  is  not  possible,  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  in  a  still 
lower  tone  of  voice  than  he  had  spoken  yet,  "  that  we  have 
been  blinded  and  deceived  by  this  woman  from  the  beginning  ? 

VOL.  I. 


226  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

It  is  not  possible  that  this  connection  was  formed  in  her  hus- 
band's lifetime,  and  led  to  his  and  my  brother's  "  — 

"  Good  God,  sir,"  cried  Gabriel,  interrupting  him,  "  don't 
entertain  such  dark  thoughts  for  a  moment.  Five  and  twenty- 
years  ago,  where  was  there  a  girl  like  her  ?  a  gay,  hand- 
some, laughing,  bright-eyed  damsel  !  Think  what  she  was, 
sir.  It  makes  my  heart  ache  now,  even  now,  though  I'm  an 
old  man,  with  a  woman  for  a  daughter,  to  think  what  she  was 
and  what  she  is.  We  all  change,  but  that's  with  Time; 
Time  does  his  work  honestly,  and  I  don't  mind  him.  A  fig 
for  Time,  sir.  Use  him  well,  and  he's  a  hearty  fellow,  and 
scorns  to  have  you  at  a  disadvantage.  But  care  and  suffering 
(and  those  have  changed  her)  are  devils,  sir  —  secret,  stealthy 
undermining  devils  —  who  tread  down  the  brightest  flowers 
in  Eden,  and  do  more  havoc  in  a  month  than  Time  does  in  a 
year.  Picture  to  yourself  for  one  minute  what  Mary  was. 
before  they  went  to  work  Avith  her  fresh  heart  and  face  —  do 
her  that  justice  —  and  say  whether  such  a  thing  is  possible." 

"  You're  a  good  fellow,  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "  and 
are  quite  right.  I  have  brooded  on  that  subject  sa  long,  that 
every  breath  of  suspicion  carries  me  back  to  it.  You  are 
quite  right." 

"It  isn't  sir,"  cried  the  locksmith  with  brightened  eyes, 
and  sturdy,  honest  voice  ;  "  it  isn't  because  I  courted  her 
before  Rudge,  and  failed,  that  I  say  she  was  too  good  for  him. 
She  would  have  been  as  much  too  good  for  me.  But  she  ivas 
too  good  for  him  ;  he  wasn't  free  and  frank  enough  for  her. 
I  don't  reproach  his  memory  with  it,  poor  fellow  ;  I  only  want 
to  put  her  before  you  as  she  really  was.  For  myself,  I'll  keep 
her  old  picture  in  my  mind ;  and  thinking  of  that,  and  what 
has  altered  her,  I'll  stand  her  friend,  and  try  to  win  her  back 
to  peace.  And  damme,  sir,"  cried  Gabriel,  "  with  your  par- 
don for  the  word,  I'd  do  the  same  if  she  had  married  fifty 
highwaymen  in  a  twelvemonth ;  and  think  it  in  the  Protestant 
Manual  too,  though  Martha  said  it  wasn't,  tooth  and  nail,  till 
doomsday  ! " 

If  the  dark  little  parlor  had  been  filled  with  a  dense  fog, 
which,  clearing  away  in  an  instant,  left  it  all  radiance  and 
brightness,  it  could  not  have  been  more  suddenly  cheered  than 


BAENABT  BUDGE.  227 

by  this  outbreak  on  the  part  of  the  hearty  locksmith.  In  a 
voice  nearly  as  full  and  round  as  his  own,  Mr.  Haredale 
cried  "  Well  said ! "  and  bade  him  come  away  without  more 
parley.  The  locksmith  complied  right  willingly  ;  and  both 
getting  into  a  hackney-coach  which  was  waiting  at  the  door, 
drove  off  straightway. 

They  alighted  at  the  street-corner,  and  dismissing  their 
conveyance,  walked  to  the  house.  To  their  first  knock  at  the 
door  there  was  no  response.  A  second  met  with  the  like 
result.  But  in  answer  to  the  third,  which  was  of  a  more 
vigorous  kind,  the  parlor  window-sash  was  gently  raised,  and 
a  musical  voice  cried,  — 

"Haredale,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  extremely  glad  to  see 
you.  How  very  much  you  have  improved  in  your  appearance 
since  our  last  meeting  !  I  never  saw  you  looking  better. 
How  do  you  do  ?  " 

Mr.  Haredale  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  casement  whence 
the  voice  proceeded,  though  there  was  no  need  to  do  so,  to 
recognize  the  speaker,  and  Mr.  Chester  waved  his  hand,  and 
smiled  a  courteous  welcome. 

"  The  door  will  be  opened  immediately,"  he  said.  "  There 
is  nobody  but  a  very  dilapidated  female  to  perform  such 
offices.  You  will  excuse  her  infirmities  ?  If  she  were  in  a 
more  elevated  station  of  society,  she  would  be  gouty.  Being 
but  a  hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of  water,  she  is  rheumatic. 
My  dear  Haredale,  these  are  natural  class  distinctions,  depend 
upon  it." 

Mr.  Haredale,  whose  face  resumed  its  lowering  and  dis- 
trustful look  the  moment  he  heard  the  voice,  inclined  his 
head  stiffly,  and  turned  his  back  upon  the  speaker. 

"  Xot  opened  yet ! "  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Dear  me  !  I  hope 
the  aged  soul  has  not  caught  her  foot  in  some  unlucky  cobweb 
by  the  way.     She  is  there  at  last !     Come  in,  I  beg !  " 

Mr.  Haredale  entered,  followed  by  the  locksmith.  Turning 
with  a  look  of  great  astonishment  to  the  old  woman  who  had 
opened  the  door,  he  inquired  for  Mrs.  Budge  —  for  Barnaby. 
They  were  both  gone,  she  replied,  wagging  her  ancient  liead, 
for  good.  There  was  a  gentleman  in  the  ])arlor,  who  perhaps 
could  tell  them  more.     That  was  all  she  knew. 


Nir 


228  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

"Pray,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  presenting  himself  before 
this  new  tenant,  "  where  is  the  person  whom  I  came  here 
to  see  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,"  he  returned,  "  I  have  not  the  least 
idea." 

"  Your  trifling  is  ill-timed,"  retorted  the  other  in  a  sup- 
pressed tone  and  voice,  "  and  its  subject  ill-chosen.  Reserve 
it  for  those  who  are  your  friends,  and  do  not  expend  it  on  me. 
I  lay  no  claim  to  the  distinction,  and  have  the  self-denial  to 
reject  it." 

"My  dear,  good  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "you  are  heated 
w4th  walking.     Sit  down,  I  beg.     Our  friend  is  "  — 

"  Is  but  a  plain  honest  man,"  returned  Mr.  Haredale,  "  and 
quite  unworthy  of  your  notice." 

"  Gabriel  Yarden  by  name,  sir,"  said  the  locksmith  bluntly. 

"A  worthy  English  yeoman  !  "  said  Mr.  Chester.  "A 
most  worthy  yeoman,  of  whom  I  have  frequently  heard  my 
son  Ned  —  darling  fellow  —  speak,  and  have  often  wished  to 
see.  Yarden,  my  good  friend,  I  am  glad  to  know  you.  You 
wonder  now,"  he  said,  turning  languidly  to  Mr.  Haredale,  "to 
see  me  here.     iSTow,  I  am  sure  you  do." 

Mr.  Haredale  glanced  at  him  —  not  fondly  or  admiringly  — 
smiled,  and  held  his  peace. 

"The  mystery  is  solved  in  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Chester; 
"  in  a  moment.  AYill  you  step  aside  with  me  one  instant. 
You  remember  our  little  compact  in  reference  to  I^ed,  and 
your  dear  niece,  Haredale  ?  You  remember  the  list  of 
assistants  in  their  innocent  intrigue  ?  You  remember  these 
two  people  being  among  them  ?  My  dear  fellow,  congratulate 
yourself  and  me.     I  have  bought  them  off." 

"  You  have  done  what  ?  "  said  ^Ir.  Haredale. 

"  Bought  them  off,"  returned  his  smiling  friend.  "  I  have 
found  it  necessary  to  take  some  active  steps  towards  setting 
this  boy  and  girl  attachment  quite  at  rest,  and  have  begun  by 
removing  these  two  agents.  You  are  surprised  ?  AYho  can 
withstand  the  influence  of  a  little  money  !  They  wanted  it, 
and  have  been  bought  off.  We  have  nothing  more  to  fear 
from  them.     They  are  gone." 

"  Gone ! "  echoed  Mr.  Haredale.     "  Where  ?  " 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  229 

"  My  dear  fellow  —  and  you  must  permit  me  to  say  again, 
that  you  never  looked  so  young  ;  so  positively  boyish  as  you 
do  to-night  —  the  Lord  knows  where  ;  I  believe  Columbus 
himself  wouldn't  find  them.  Between  you  and  me  they  have 
their  hidden  reasons,  but  upon  that  point  I  have  pledged 
myself  to  secrecy.  She  appointed  to  see  you  here  to-night  I 
know,  but  found  it  inconvenient,  and  couldn't  wait.  Here  is 
the  key  of  the  door.  I  am  afraid  you'll  find  it  inconveniently 
large  ;  but  as  the  tenement  is  yours,  your  good-nature  will 
excuse  that,  Haredale,  I  am  certain  !  " 


230  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Mr.  Haredale  stood  in  the  widow's  parlor  with  the  door- 
key  in  his  hand,  gazing  by  turns  at  Mr.  Chester  and  at 
Gabriel  Varden,  and  occasionall}^  glancing  downward  at  the 
key  as  in  the  hope  that  of  its  own  accord  it  would  unlock  the 
mystery ;  until  Mr.  Chester,  putting  on  his  hat  and  gloves, 
and  sweetly  inquiring  whether  they  were  walking  in  the 
same  direction,  recalled  him  to  himself. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  Our  roads  diverge  —  widely,  as  you 
know.     For  the  present,  I  shall  remain  here." 

"You  will  be  hipped,  Haredale;  you  will  be  miserable, 
melancholy,  utterly  wretched,"  returned  the  other.  "It's  a 
place  of  the  very  last  description  for  a  man  of  your  temper. 
I  know  it  will  make  you  very  miserable." 

"  Let  it,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  sitting  down ;  "  and  thrive 
upon  the  thought.     Good-night !  " 

Feigning  to  be  wholly  unconscious  of  the  abrupt  wave  of 
the  hand  which  rendered  this  farewell  tantamount  to  a  dis- 
missal, Mr.  Chester  retorted  with  a  bland  and  heartfelt 
benediction,  and  inquired  of  Gabriel  in  what  direction  he  was 
going." 

"  Yours,  sir,  would  be  too  much  honor  for  the  like  of  me," 
replied  the  locksmith,  hesitating. 

"  I  wish  you  to  remain  here  a  little  while,  Varden,"  said 
Mr.  Haredale,  without  looking  towards  them.  "I  have  a 
word  or  two  to  say  to  you." 

"  I  will  not  intrude  upon  your  conference  another  moment," 
said  Mr.  Chester  with  inconceivable  politeness.  "  jVIay  it  be 
satisfactory  to  you  both  !  God  bless  you  !  "  So  saying,  and 
bestowing  upon  the  locksmith  a  most  refulgent  smile,  he  left 
them. 

"A  deplorably  constituted  creature,  that  rugged  person," 
he  said,  as  he  walked  along  the  street ;  "  he  is  an  atrocity  that 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  231 

carries  its  own  punishment  along  with  it  —  a  bear  tliat  gnaws 
himself.  And  here  is  one  of  the  inestimable  advantages  of 
having  a  perfect  command  over  one's  inclinations.  I  have 
been  tempted  in  these  two  short  interviews,  to  draw  upon 
that  fellow  fifty  times.  Five  men  in  six  would  have  yielded 
to  the  impulse.  By  suppressing  mine,  I  wound  him  deeper 
and  more  keenly  than  if  I  were  the  best  swordsman  in  all 
Europe,  and  he  the  worst.  You  are  the  wise  man's  very  last 
resource,"  he  said,  tapping  the  hilt  of  his  weapon ;  "  we  can 
but  appeal  to  you  when  all  else  is  said  and  done.  To  come  to 
you  before,  and  thereby  spare  our  adversaries  so  much,  is  a 
barbarian  mode  of  warfare,  quite  unworthy  any  man  with  the 
remotest  pretensions  to  delicacy  of  feeling,  or  refinement." 

He  smiled  so  very  pleasantly  as  he  communed  with  him- 
self after  this  manner,  that  a  beggar  was  emboldened  to 
follow  him  for  alms,  and  to  dog  his  footsteps  for  some 
distance.  He  was  gratified  by  the  circumstance,  feeling  it 
complimentary  to  his  power  of  feature,  and  as  a  reward 
suffered  the  man  to  follow  him  until  he  called  a  chair,  when 
he  graciously  dismissed  him  with  a  fervent  blessing. 

"Which  is  as  easy  as  cursing,"  he  wisely  added,  as  he  took 
his  seat,  "  and  more  becoming  to  the  face.  —  To  Clerkenwell, 
my  good  creatures,  if  you  please  ! "  The  chairmen  were 
rendered  quite  vivacious  by  having  such  a  courteous  burden, 
and  to  Clerkenwell  they  went  at  a  fair  round  trot. 

Alighting  at  a  certain  point  he  had  indicated  to  them  upon 
the  road,  and  paying  them  something  less  than  they  had 
expected  from  a  fare  of  such  gentle  speech,  he  turned  into 
the  street  in  which  the  locksmith  dwelt,  and  presently  stood 
beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Golden  Key.  Mr.  Tappertit,  who 
was  hard  at  work  by  lamp-light,  in  a  corner  of  the  workshop, 
remained  unconscious  of  his  presence  until  a  hand  upon  his 
shoulder  made  him  start  and  turn  his  head. 

"  Industry,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  is  the  soul  of  business,  and 
the  key-stone  of  prosperity.  Mr.  Tappertit,  I  shall  expect  you 
to  invite  me  to  dinner  when  you  are  Lord  ]\[ayor  of  London." 

"Sir,"  returned  the  'prentice,  laying  down  his  hammer, 
and  rubbing  his  nose  on  the  back  of  a  very  sooty  hand,  "  I 
scorn  the  Lord  Mayor  and  everything  that  belongs  to  liim. 


232  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

We  must  have  another  state  of  society,  sir,  before  you  catch 
me  being  Lord  Mayor.     How  de  do,  sir  ?  " 

"  The  better,  Mr.  Tappertit,  for  looking  into  your  ingenuous 
face  once  more.     I  hope  you  are  well." 

"  I  am  as  well,  sir,"  said  Sim,  standing  up  to  get  nearer  to 
his  ear,  and  whispering  hoarsely,  "as  any  man  can  be  under 
the  aggrawations  to  which  I  am  exposed.  My  life's  a  burden 
to  me.  If  it  wasn't  for  wengeance,  I'd  play  at  pitch  and  toss 
with  it  on  the  losing  hazard." 

"  Is  ]\Irs.  Varden  at  home  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

"Sir,"  returned  Sim,  eying  him  over  with  a  look  of 
concentrated  expression,  — "  she  is.  Did  you  wish  to  see 
her  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  nodded. 

"  Then  come  this  way,  sir,"  said  Sim,  wiping  his  face  upon 
his  apron.  "  Follow  me,  sir.  —  Would  you  permit  me  to 
whisper  in  your  ear,  one-half  a  second  ?  " 

"  By  all  means." 

Mr.  Tappertit  raised  himself  on  tiptoe,  applied  his  lips  to 
!Mr.  Chester's  ear,  drew  back  his  head  without  saying  any- 
thing, looked  hard  at  him,  applied  them  to  his  ear  again, 
again  drew  back,  and  finally  whispered  — "  The  name  is 
Joseph  Willet.     Hush  !     I  say  no  more." 

Having  said  that  much,  he  beckoned  the  visitor  with  a 
mysterious  aspect  to  follow  him  to  the  parlor  door,  where  he 
announced  him  in  the  voice  of  a  gentleman-usher.  "Mr. 
Chester." 

"  And  not  Mr.  Ed'dard,  mind,"  said  Sim,  looking  into  the 
door  again,  and  adding  this  by  way  of  postscript  in  his  own 
person  ;  "  it's  his  father." 

"  But  do  not  let  his  father,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  advancing 
hat  in  hand,  as  he  observed  the  effect  of  this  last  explanatory 
announcement,  '•  do  not  let  his  father  be  any  check  or  restraint 
on  your  domestic  occupations,  Miss  Varden." 

"  Oh  !  Now  !  There  !  Ain't  I  always  a-saying  it !  " 
exclaimed  Miggs,  clapping  her  hands.  "If  he  ain't  been  and 
took  Missis  for  her  own  daughter.  Well,  she  do  look  like  it, 
that  she  do.     Only  think  of  that,  mim  ! " 

"Is   it   possible,"    said   ]Mr.    Chester  in  his  softest  tones, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  233 

"  that  this  is  Mrs.  Varden  !  I  am  amazed.  That  is  not  your 
daughter,  ^Mrs.  Varden  ?     Xo,  no.     Your  sister." 

"My  daughter,  indeed,  sir,"  returned  Mrs.  V.  blushing 
with  great  juvenility. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Varden  !  "  cried  the  visitor.  "  Ah,  ma'am  — 
humanity  is  indeed  a  happy  lot,  when  we  can  repeat  ourselves 
in  others,  and  still  be  young  as  they.  You  must  allow  me  to 
salute  you  —  the  custom  of  the  country,  my  dear  madam  — 
your  daughter  too." 

Dolly  showed  some  reluctance  to  perform  tliis  ceremony, 
but  was  sharply  reproved  by  Mrs.  Varden,  who  insisted  on 
her  undergoing  it  that  minute.  For  pride,  she  said  with 
great  severity,  was  one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins,  and  humility 
and  lowliness  of  heart  were  virtues.  Wherefore  she  desired 
that  Dolly  would  be  kissed  immediately,  on  pain  of  her  just 
displeasure  ;  at  the  same  time  giving  her  to  understand  that 
whatever  she  saw  her  mother  do,  she  might  safely  do  herself, 
without  being  at  the  trouble  of  any  reasoning  or  reflection  on 
the  subject — which,  indeed,  was  offensive  and  undutiful,  and 
in  direct  contravention  of  the  church  catechism. 

Thus  admonished,  Dolly  complied,  though  by  no  means 
willingly ;  for  there  was  a  broad,  bold  look  of  admiration  in 
^Ir.  Chester's  face,  refined  and  polished  though  it  sought  to 
be,  which  distressed  her  very  much.  As  she  stood  with  down- 
cast eyes,  not  liking  to  look  up  and  meet  his,  he  gazed  upon 
her  with  an  approving  air,  and  then  turned  to  her  mother. 

"My  friend  Gabriel  (whose  acquaintance  I  only  made  this 
very  evening)  should  be  a  happy  man,  Mrs.  Varden." 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  Mrs.  V.,  shaking  her  head. 

'' Ah  !  "  echoed  ^riggs. 

"  Is  that  the  case  ? "  said  Mr.  Chester,  compassionately. 
«  Dear  me  !  " 

"Master  has  no  intentions,  sir,"  murmured  Miggs  as  she 
sidled  up  to  him,  "  but  to  be  as  grateful  as  his  natur  will  let 
him,  for  everythink  he  owns  which  it  is  in  his  powers  to  appre- 
ciate. But  we  never,  sir"  —  said  Miggs,  looking  sidewa3's  at 
Mrs.  Varden,  and  interlarding  her  discourse  with  a  sigh  — 
"  we  never  know  the  full  value  of  so?ne  wines  and  fig-trees 
till  we  lose  'em.     So  much  the  worse,  sir,  for  them  as  has  the 


234  BAB  NAB  Y  BUDGE. 

slighting  of  'em  on  their  consciences  when  they're  gone  to  be 
in  full  blow  elsewhere."  And  Miss  Miggs  cast  up  her  eyes 
to  signify  where  that  might  be. 

As  Mrs.  Varden  distinctly  heard,  and  was  intended  to  hear, 
all  that  Miggs  said,  and  as  these  words  appeared  to  convey  in 
metaphorical  terms  a  presage  or  foreboding  that  she  would  at 
some  early  period  droop  beneath  her  trials  and  take  an  easy 
flight  towards  the  stars,  she  immediately  began  to  languish, 
and  taking  a  volume  of  the  Manual  from  a  neigboring 
table,  leant  her  arm  upon  it  as  though  she  were  Hope  and 
that  her  Anchor.  Mr.  Chester  perceiving  this,  and  seeing 
how  the  volume  was  lettered  on  the  back,  took  it  gently  from 
her  hand,  and  turned  the  fluttering  leaves. 

"My  favorite  book,  dear  madam.  How  often,  how  very 
often  in  his  early  life  —  before  he  can  remember  "  —  (this 
clause  was  strictly  true)  "have  I  deduced  little  easy  moral 
lessons  from  its  pages,  for  my  dear  son  Ned  !  You  know 
Ned  ?  " 

Mrs.  Varden  had  that  honor,  and  a  fine  affable  young  gentle- 
man he  was. 

"  You're  a  mother,  Mrs.  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  taking 
a  pinch  of  snuff,  "and  you  know  what  I,  as  a  father,  feel, 
when  he  is  praised.  He  gives  me  some  uneasiness  —  much 
uneasiness  —  he's  of  a  roving  nature,  ma'am  —  from  flower  to 
flower  —  from  sweet  to  sweet  —  but  his  is  the  butterfly  time 
of  life,  and  we  must  not  be  hard  upon  such  trifling." 

He  glanced  at  Dolly.  She  was  attending  evidently  to  what 
he  said.     Just  what  he  desired  ! 

"  The  only  thing  I  object  to  in  this  little  trait  of  Ned's  is," 
said  Mr.  Chester,  — "and  the  mention  of  his  name  reminds 
me,  by  the  way,  that  I  am  about  to  beg  the  favor  of  a 
minute's  talk  with  you  alone  —  the  only  thing  I  object  to  in 
it,  is,  that  it  does  partake  of  insincerity.  Now,  however  I 
may  attempt  to  disguise  the  fact  from  myself  in  my  affection 
for  Ned,  still  I  always  revert  to  this  —  that  if  we  are  not 
sincere,  we  are  nothing.  Nothing  upon  earth.  Let  us  be 
sincere,  my  dear  madam  "  — 

"  —  and  Protestant,"  murmured  Mrs.  Varden. 

"  —  and  Protestant  above  all  thinejs.     Let  us  be  sincere  and 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  235 

Protestant,  strictly  moral,  strictly  just  (though  always  with 
a  leaning  towards  mercy),  strictly  honest,  and  strictly  true, 
and  we  gain  —  it  is  a  slight  point,  certainly,  but  still  it  is 
something  tangible ;  we  throw  up  a  groundwork  and  founda- 
tion, so  to  speak,  of  goodness,  on  which  we  may  afterwards 
erect  some  worthy  superstructure." 

Now,  to  be  sure,  Mrs.  Varden  thought,  here  is  a  perfect 
character.  Here  is  a  meek,  righteous,  thorough-going  Chris- 
tian, who,  having  mastered  all  these  qualities,  so  difficult  of 
attainment ;  who,  having  dropped  a  pinch  of  salt  on  the  tails 
of  all  the  cardinal  virtues,  and  caught  them  every  one  ;  makes 
light  of  their  possession,  and  pants  for  more  morality.  For 
the  good  woman  never  doubted  (as  many  good  men  and 
women  never  do),  that  this  slighting  kind  of  profession,  this 
setting  so  little  store  by  great  matters,  this  seeming  to  say  "  I 
am  not  proud,  I  am  what  you  hear,  but  I  consider  myself  no 
better  than  other  people ;  let  us  change  the  subject,  pray  "  — 
was  perfectly  genuine  and  true.  He  so  contrived  it,  and  said 
it  in  that  way  that  it  appeared  to  have  been  forced  from  him, 
and  its  effect  was  marvellous. 

Aware  of  the  impression  he  had  made  —  few  men  were 
quicker  than  he  at  such  discoveries  —  Mr.  Chester  followed 
up  the  blow  by  propounding  certain  virtuous  maxims,  some- 
what vague  and  general  in  their  nature,  doubtless,  and  occa- 
sionally partaking  of  the  character  of  truisms,  worn  a  little 
out  at  elbow,  but  delivered  in  so  charming  a  voice  and 
with  such  uncommon  serenity  and  peace  of  mind,  that  they 
answered  as  well  as  the  best.  Nor  is  this  to  be  wondered  at ; 
for  as  hollow  vessels  produce  a  far  more  musical  sound  in 
falling  than  those  which  are  substantial,  so  it  will  oftentimes 
be  found  that  sentiments  which  have  nothing  in  them  make 
the  loudest  ringing  in  the  world,  and  are  the  most  relished. 

Mr.  Chester,  with  the  volume  gently  extended  in  one  hand, 
and  with  the  other  planted  lightly  on  his  breast,  talked  to 
them  in  the  most  delicious  manner  possible  ;  and  quite  en- 
chanted all  his  hearers,  notwithstanding  their  conflicting 
interests  and  thoughts.  Even  Dolly,  who,  between  his  keen 
regards  and  her  eying  over  by  Mr.  Tappertit,  was  put  quite 
out  of  countenance,  could  not  help  owning  within  herself  that 


236  BARNABT  RVBGE. 

he  was  the  sweetest-spoken  gentleman  she  had  ever  seen. 
Even  Miss  Miggs,  who  was  divided  between  admiration 
of  Mr.  Chester  and  a  mortal  jealousy  of  her  young  mistress, 
had  sufficient  leisure  to  be  propitiated.  Even  Mr.  Tappertit, 
though  occupied  as  we  have  seen  in  gazing  at  his  heart's 
delight,  could  not  wholly  divert  his  thoughts  from  the  voice 
of  the  other  charmer.  Mrs.  Varden,  to  her  own  private  think- 
ing, had  never  been  so  improved  in  all  her  life :  and  when 
Mr.  Chester,  rising  and  craving  permission  to  speak  with  her 
apart,  took  her  by  the  hand  and  led  her  at  arm's  length 
up-stairs  to  the  best  sitting-room,  she  almost  deemed  him 
something  more  than  human. 

"Dear  madam,"  he  said,  pressing  her  hand  delicately  to 
his  lips  ;  "  be  seated." 

Mrs.  Varden  called  up  quite  a  courtly  air,  and  became 
seated. 

''You  guess  my  object?"  said  Mr.  Chester,  drawing  a 
chair  towards  her.  "  You  divine  my  purpose  ?  I  am  an 
affectionate  parent,  my  dear  Mrs.  Varden." 

"  That  I  am  sure  you  are,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  V. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Mr.  Chester,  tapping  his  snuff-box 
lid.  "Heavy  moral  responsibilities  rest  with  parents,  Mrs. 
Varden." 

Mrs.  Varden  slightl}^  raised  her  hands,  shook  her  head,  and 
looked  at  the  ground  as  though  she  saw  straight  through  the 
globe,  out  at  the  other  end,  and  into  the  immensity  of  space 
beyond. 

"I  may  confide  in  3^ou,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "without  re- 
serve. I  love  my  son,  ma'am,  dearly ;  and  loving  him  as  I  do, 
I  would  save  him  from  working  certain  misery.  You  know 
of  his  attachment  to  Miss  Haredale.  You  have  abetted  him 
in  it,  and  very  kind  of  you  it  was  to  do  so.  I  am  deeply 
obliged  to  you  —  most  deeply  obliged  to  you  —  for  your  inter- 
est in  his  behalf ;  but,  my  dear  ma'am,  it  is  a  mistaken  one,  I 
do  assure  you." 

Mrs.  Varden  stammered  that  she  was  sorry  — 

"  Sorry,  my  dear  ma'am,"  he  interposed.  "'  Xever  be  sorry 
for  what  is  so  very  amiable,  so  very  good  in  intention,  so 
perfectly  like  yourself.      But  there  are  grave  and  weighty 


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BARNABY  BUDGE.  237 

reasons,  pressing  family  considerations,  and  apart  even  from 
these,  points  of  religious  difference,  which  interpose  them- 
selves, and  render  their  union  impossible  ;  utterly  im-possible. 
I  should  have  mentioned  these  circumstances  to  your  hus- 
band ;  but  he  has — you  will  excuse  my  saying  this  so  freely 

—  he  has  7iot  your  quickness  of  apprehension  or  depth  of 
moral  sense.  What  an  extremely  airy  house  this  is,  and  how 
beautifully  kept !     For  one  like  myself  —  a  widower  so  long 

—  these  tokens  of  female  care  and  superintendence  have 
inexpressible  charms.'' 

Mrs.  Varden  began  to  think  (she  scarcely  knew  why)  that 
the  young  Mr.  Chester  must  be  in  the  wrong,  and  the  old  Mr. 
Chester  must  be  in  the  right. 

''My  son  Ned,"  resumed  her  tempter  with  his  most  winning 
air,  "has  had,  I  am  told,  your  lovely  daughter's  aid,  and  your 
open-hearted  husband's." 

"  —  Much  more  than  mine,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden  ;  ''a 
great  deal  more.     I  have  often  had  my  doubts.     It's  a  "  — 

"A  bad  example,"  suggested  Mr.  Chester.  "It  is.  Xo 
doubt  it  is.  Your  daughter  is  at  that  age  when  to  set  before 
her  an  encouragement  for  young  persons  to  rebel  against 
their  parents  on  this  most  important  point,  is  particularly 
injudicious.  You  are  quite  right.  I  ought  to  have  thought 
of  that  myself,  but  it  escaped  me,  I  confess  —  so  far  superior 
are  your  sex  to  ours,  dear  madam,  in  point  of  penetration  and 
sagacity." 

Mrs.  Varden  looked  as  wise  as  if  she  had  really  said  some- 
thing to  deserve  this  compliment  —  iirmly  believed  she  had, 
in  short  —  and  her  faith  in  her  own  shrewdness  increased 
considerably. 

"  My  dear  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  you  embolden  me 
to  be  plain  with  you.  My  son  and  I  are  at  variance  on  this 
point.  The  young  lady  and  her  natural  guardian  differ  upon 
it,  also.  And  the  closing  point  is,  that  my  son  is  bound,  by 
his  duty  to  me,  by  his  honor,  by  every  solemn  tie  and  obliga- 
tion, to  marry  some  one  else." 

"Engaged  to  marry  another  lady!"  quoth  ^Irs.  Yarden, 
holding  up  her  hands. 

"My    dear    madam,    brought    up,    educated,    and    trained, 


238  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

expressly  for  that  j^urpose.  Expressly  for  that  purpose.  — 
Miss  Haredale,  I  am  told,  is  a  very  charming  creature." 

"  I  am  her  foster-mother,  and  should  know  —  the  best  young 
lady  in  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Vardeu. 

"  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt  of  it.  I  am  sure  she  is. 
And  you,  who  have  stood  in  that  tender  relation  towards  her, 
are  bound  to  consult  her  happiness.  Now,  can  I  —  as  I  have 
said  to  Haredale,  who  quite  agrees  —  can  I  possibly  stand  by, 
and  suffer  her  to  throw  herself  away  (although  she  is  of  a 
Catholic  family),  upon  a  young  fellow  who,  as  yet,  has  no 
heart  at  all  ?  It  is  no  imputation  upon  him  to  say  he  has 
not,  because  young  men  who  have  plunged  deeply  into  the 
frivolities  and  conventionalities  of  society,  very  seldom  have. 
Their  hearts  never  grow,  my  dear  ma'am,  till  after  thirty.  I 
don't  believe,  no,  I  do  7iot  believe,  that  I  had  any  heart 
m}' self  when  I  was  Ned's  age." 

"Oh,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden,  "I  think  you  must  have  had. 
It's  impossible  that  you,  who  have  so  much  now,  can  ever 
have  been  without  any." 

"I  hope,"  he  answered,  shrugging  his  shoulders  meekly, 
'-1  have  a  little  ;  I  hope,  a  very  little  —  Heaven  knows  !  But 
to  return  to  Ned :  I  have  no  doubt  you  thought,  and  therefore 
interfered  benevolently  in  his  behalf,  that  I  objected  to  Miss 
Haredale.  How  very  natural !  My  dear  madam,  I  object  to 
him  — to  him  —  emj^hatically  to  Ned  himself." 

Mrs.  Varden  was  perfectly  aghast  at  the  disclosure. 

"  He  has,  if  he  honorably  fulfils  this  solemn  obligation  of 
which  I  have  told  you  —  and  he  must  be  honorable,  dear 
Mrs.  Varden,  or  he  is  no  son  of  mine  —  a  fortune  within  his 
reach.  He  is  of  most  expensive,  ruinously  expensive  habits ; 
and  if,  in  a  moment  of  caprice  and  wilfulness,  he  were  to 
marry  this  young  lady,  and  so  deprive  himself  of  the  means 
of  gratifying  the  tastes  to  which  he  has  been  so  long  accus- 
tomed, he  would  —  my  dear  madam,  he  would  break  the  gentle 
creature's  heart.  Mrs.  Varden,  my  good  lady,  my  dear  soul, 
I  put  it  to  you  —  is  such  a  sacrifice  to  be  endured  ?  Is  the 
female  heart  a  thing  to  be  trifled  with  in  this  way  ?  Ask 
your  own,  my  dear  madam.     Ask  your  own,  I  beseech  you." 

"Truly,"  thought  Mrs.  Varden,  "this  gentleman  is  a  saint. 


BARXAIIY  RUDGE.  239 

But,"  she  added  aloud,  and  not  unnaturally,  "  if  you  take 
Miss  Emma's  lover  away,  sir,  what  becomes  of  the  poor 
thing's  heart,  then  ?  " 

"The  very  point,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  not  at  all  abashed, 
"to  which  I  wished  to  lead  you.  A  marriage  with  my  son, 
whom  I  should  be  compelled  to  disown,  would  be  followed  by 
years  of  misery ;  they  would  be  separated,  my  dear  madam, 
in  a  twelvemonth.  To  break  off  this  attachment,  which  is 
more  fancied  than  real,  as  you  and  I  know  very  well,  will  cost 
the  dear  girl  but  a  few  tears,  and  she  is  happy  again.  Take 
the  case  of  your  own  daughter,  the  young  lady  down-stairs, 
who  is  your  breathing  image  "  —  Mrs.  Varden  coughed  and 
simpered  — "  there  is  a  young  man  (I  am  sorry  to  say,  a 
dissolute  fellow,  of  very  indifferent  character)  of  whom  I 
have  heard  Ned  speak  —  Bullet  was  it  —  Pullet  —  Mullet  "  — 

"  There  is  a  young  man  of  the  name  of  Joseph  Willet,  sir," 
said  Mrs.  Varden,  folding  her  hands  loftily. 
.    "That's  he,"  cried   Mr.  Chester.     "Suppose   this   Joseph 
Willet  now,  were  to  aspire  to  the  affections  of  your  charming 
daughter,  and  were  to  engage  them." 

"It  would  be  like  his  impudence,"  interposed  Mrs.  Varden, 
bridling,  "to  dare  to  think  of  such  a  thing !  " 

"  My  dear  madam,  that's  the  whole  case.  I  know  it  would 
be  like  his  impudence.  It  is  like  Ned's  impudence  to  do  as 
he  has  done ;  but  you  would  not  on  that  account,  or  because 
of  a  few  tears  from  your  beautiful  daughter,  refrain  from 
checking  their  inclinations  in  their  birth.  I  meant  to  have 
reasoned  thus  with  your  husband  when  I  saw  him  at  Mrs. 
Rudge's  this  evening"  — 

"  ^Fy  husband,''  said  ]\rrs.  Varden,  interposing  with  emotion, 
"  would  be  a  great  deal  better  at  liome  than  going  to  Mrs. 
Rudge's  so  often.  I  don't  know  what  \w,  does  there.  I  don't 
see  what  occasion  he  has  to  busy  himself  in  her  affairs  at  all, 
sir." 

"  If  I  don't  appear  to  express  my  concurrence  in  those  last 
sentiments  of  yours,"  returned  Mr.  Chester,  "  (piite  so  strongly 
as  you  might  desire,  it  is  because  his  being  there,  my  dear 
madam,  and  not  proving  conversational,  led  me  hither,  and 
procured  me   the   happiness  of  this   interview   with  one,   in 


240  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

whom  the  whole  management,  conduct,  and  prosperity  of  her 
family  are  centred,  I  perceive." 

With  that  he  took  Mrs.  Varden's  hand  again,  and  having 
pressed  it  to  his  lips  Avith  the  high-flown  gallantr}^  of  the  day 
—  a  little  burlesqued  to  render  it  the  more  striking  in  the 
good  lady's  unaccustomed  eyes  — proceeded  in  the  same  strain 
of  mingled  sophistry,  cajolery,  and  flattery,  to  entreat  that 
her  utmost  influence  might  be  exerted  to  restrain  her  husband 
and  daughter  from  any  further  promotion  of  Edward's  suit  to 
Miss  Haredale,  and  from  aiding  or  abetting  either  party  in 
any  way.  Mrs.  Varden  was  but  a  woman,  and  had  her  share 
of  vanity,  obstinacy,  and  love  of  power.  She  entered  into  a 
secret  treaty  of  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive,  with  her 
insinuating  visitor  ;  and  really  did  believe,  as  many  others 
would  have  done  who  saw  and  heard  him,  that  in  so  doing 
she  furthered  the  ends  of  truth,  justice,  and  morality,  in  a 
very  uncommon  degree. 

Overjoyed  by  the  success  of  his  negotiation,  and  mightily 
amused  within  himself.  Mr.  Chester  conducted  her  down-stairs 
in  the  same  state  as  before ;  and  having  repeated  the  previous 
ceremony  of  salutation,  which  also  as  before  comprehended 
Dolly,  took  his  leave  ;  first  completing  the  conquest  of  Miss 
Miggs's  heart,  by  inquiring  if  '-  this  young  lady  "  would  light 
him  to  the  door. 

"  Oh,  mini,"  said  ]\Iiggs,  returning  with  the  candle.  "  Oh 
gracious  me,  mim,  there's  a  gentleman !  Was  there  ever 
such  an  angel  to  talk  as  he  is  —  and  such  a  sweet-looking 
man.  So  upright  and  noble,  that  he  seems  to  despise  the 
very  ground  he  walks  on ;  and  yet  so  mild  and  condescending, 
that  he  seems  to  say  'but  I  will  take  notice  on  it  too.'  And 
to  think  of  his  taking  you  for  Miss  Dolly,  and  Miss  Dolly  for 
your  sister  —  Oh,  my  goodness  me,  if  I  was  master  wouldn't  I 
be  jealous  of  him  ! " 

Mrs.  Varden  reproved  her  handmaid  for  this  vain-speaking ; 
but  very  gently  and  mildly — quite  smilingly  indeed  —  re- 
marking that  she  was  a  foolish,  giddy,  light-headed  girl,  whose 
spirits  carried  her  beyond  all  bounds,  and  who  didn't  mean 
half  she  said,  or  she  would  be  quite  angry  with  her. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Dolly,  in  a  thoughtful  manner,  "I  half 


BABNABT  RUDGE.  241 

believe  Mr.  Chester  is  something  like  ^liggs  in  that  respect. 
For  all  his  politeness  and  pleasant  speaking,  I  am  pretty  sure 
he  was  making  game  of  us,  more  than  once." 

"  If  you  venture  to  say  such  a  thing  again,  and  to  speak  ill 
of  people  behind  their  backs  in  my  presence,  ^liss,"  said  Mrs. 
Varden,  "  I  shall  insist  upon  your  taking  a  candle  and  going 
to  bed  directly.  How  dare  you,  Dolly  ?  I'm  astonished  at 
you.  The  rudeness  of  your  whole  behavior  this  evening  has 
been  disgraceful.  Did  anybody  ever  hear,"  cried  the  enraged 
matron,  bursting  into  tears,  "  of  a  daughter  telling  her  own 
mother  she  has  been  made  game  of !  " 

What  a  very  uncertain  temper  Mrs.  Varden's  was  ! 


VOL.  I. 


242  BAENABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Repairing  to  a  noted  coffee-house  in  Covent  Garden  when 
he  left  the  locksmith's,  ,Mr.  Chester  sat  long  over  a  late 
dinner,  entertaining  himself  exceedingly  with  the  whimsical 
recollection  of  his  recent  proceedings,  and  congratulating  him- 
self very  much  on  his  great  cleverness.  Influenced  by  these 
thoughts,  his  face  wore  an  expression  so  benign  and  tranquil, 
that  the  waiter  in  immediate  attendance  upon  him  felt  he 
could  almost  have  died  in  his  defence,  and  settled  in  his  own 
mind  (until  the  receipt  of  the  bill,  and  a  very  small  fee  for 
very  great  trouble,  disabused  it  of  the  idea)  that  such  an 
apostolic  customer  was  worth  half  a  dozen  of  the  ordinary  run 
of  visitors,  at  least. 

A  visit  to  the  gaming-table  —  not  as  a  heated,  anxious 
venturer,  but  one  whom  it  was  quite  a  treat  to  see  staking  his 
two  or  three  pieces  in  deference  to  the  follies  of  society,  and 
smiling  with  equal  benevolence  on  winners  and  losers  —  made 
it  late  before  he  reached  home.  It  was  his  custom  to  bid  his 
servant  go  to  bed  at  his  own  time  unless  he  had  orders  to  the 
contrary,  and  to  leave  a  candle  on  the  common  stair.  There 
was  a  lamp  on  the  landing  by  which  he  could  always  light  it 
when  he  came  home  late,  and  having  a  key  of  the  door  about 
him  he  could  enter  and  go  to  bed  at  his  pleasure. 

He  opened  the  glass  of  the  dull  lamp,  whose  wick,  burned 
up  and  swollen  like  a  drunkard's  nose,  came  flying  off  in 
little  carbuncles  at  the  candle's  touch,  and  scattering  hot 
sparks  about  rendered  it  matter  of  some  difficulty  to  kindle 
the  lazy  taper;  when  a  noise,  as  of  a  man  snoring  deeply 
some  steps  higher  up,  caused  him  to  pause  and  listen.  It 
was  the  heavy  breathing  of  a  sleeper,  close  at  hand.  Some 
fellow  had  lain  down  on  the  open  staircase,  and  was  slumber- 
ing soundly.  Having  lighted  the  candle  at  length  and  opened 
his  own  door,  he  softly  ascended,  holding  the  taper  high  above 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  243 

his  head,  and  peering  cautiously  about ;  curious  to  see  what 
kind  of  man  had  chosen  so  comfortless  a  shelter  for  his 
lodging. 

With  his  head  upon  the  landing  and  his  great  limbs  flung 
over  half  a  dozen  stairs,  as  carelessly  as  though  he  were  a 
dead  man  whom  drunken  bearers  had  thrown  down  by  chance, 
there  lay  Hugh,  face  uppermost,  his  long  hair  drooping  like 
some  wild  weed  upon  his  wooden  pillow,  and  his  huge  chest 
heaving  with  the  sounds  which  so  unwontedly  disturbed  the 
place  and  hour.  He  who  came  upon  him  so  unexpectedly 
was  about  to  break  his  rest  by  thrusting  him  with  his  foot, 
when,  glancing  at  his  upturned  face,  he  arrested  himself  in 
the  very  action,  and  stooping  down  and  shading  the  candle 
with  his  hand,  examined  his  features  closely.  Close  as  his 
first  inspection  was,  it  did  not  suffice,  for  he  passed  the  light, 
still  carefully  shaded  as  before,  across  and  across  his  face,  and 
yet  observed  him  with  a  searching  eye. 

•While  he  was  thus  engaged,  the  sleeper,  without  any  start- 
ing or  turning  round,  awoke.  There  was  a  kind  of  fascination 
in  meeting  his  steady  gaze  so  suddenly,  which  took  from  the 
other  the  presence  of  mind  to  withdraw  his  eyes,  and  forced 
him,  as  it  were,  to  meet  his  look.  So  they  remained  staring 
at  each  other,  until  Mr.  Chester  at  last  broke  silence,  and 
asked  him  in  a  low  voice,  why  he  lay  sleeping  there. 

"  I  thought,"  said  Hugh,  struggling  into  a  sitting  posture 
and  gazing  at  him  intently,  still,  "  that  you  were  a  part  of 
my  dream.  It  was  a  curious  one.  I  hope  it  may  never  come 
true,  master." 

"  What  makes  3'ou  shiver  ?  " 

"  The  —  the  cold,  1  suppose,"  he  growled,  as  he  shook  him- 
self, and  rose.     "  I  hardly  know  where  I  am  yet." 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

"Ay.  I  know  you,"  he  answered.  '•  I  was  dreaming  of 
you  —  we're  not  where  I  thouglit  we  were.    That's  a  comfort." 

He  looked  round  him  as  he  spoke,  and  in  particular  looked 
above  his  head,  as  though  he  half  expected  to  be  standing 
under  some  object  which  had  had  existence  in  his  dream. 
Then  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  shook  liimself  again,  and 
followed  liis  conductor  into  his  own  rooms. 


244  BAR  NAB  Y  BUDGE. 

Mr.  Chester  lighted  the  candles  which  stood  upon  his  dress- 
ing-table, and  wheeling  an  easy-chair  towards  the  fire,  which 
was  yet  burning,  stirred  up  a  cheerful  blaze,  sat  down  before 
it,  and  bade  his  uncouth  visitor  "  Come  here,"  and  draw  his 
boots  off. 

"  You  have  been  drinking  again,  my  fine  fellow,"  he  said, 
as  Hugh  went  down  on  one  knee,  and  did  as  he  was  told. 

"As  I'm  alive,  master,  I've  walked  the  twelve  long  miles, 
and  waited  here  I  don't  know  how  long,  and  had  no  drink 
between  my  lips  since  dinner-time  at  noon." 

"  And  can  you  do  nothing  better,  my  pleasant  friend,  than 
fall  asleep,  and  shake  the  very  building  with  your  snores  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Can't  you  dream  in  your  straw  at  home, 
dull  dog  as  you  are,  that  you  need  come  here  to  do  it  ?  — 
Reach  me  those  slippers,  and  tread  softly." 

Hugh  obeyed  in  silence. 

"  And  harkee,  my  dear  young  gentleman,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  as  he  put  them  on,  "  the  next  time  you  dream,  don't 
let  it  be  of  me,  but  of  some  dog  or  horse  with  whom  you  are 
better  acquainted.  Fill  the  glass  once  —  you'll  find  it  and 
the  bottle  in  the  same  place  —  and  empty  it  to  keep  yourself 
awake." 

Hugh  obeyed  again  —  even  more  zealously  —  and  having 
done  so,  presented  himself  before  his  patron. 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  '"what  do  you  want  with  me  ?  " 

"There  was  news  to-day,"  returned  Hugh.  "Your  son 
was  at  our  house  —  came  down  on  horseback.  He  tried  to  see 
the  young  woman,  but  couldn't  get  sight  of  her.  He  left 
some  letter  or  some  message  which  our  Joe  had  charge  of, 
but  he  and  the  old  one  quarrelled  about  it  when  your  son  had 
gone,  and  the  old  one  wouldn't  let  it  be  delivered.  He  says 
(that's  the  old  one  does)  that  none  of  his  people  shall  interfere 
and  get  him  into  trouble.  He's  a  landlord,  he  says,  and  lives 
on  everybody's  custom." 

"  He  is  a  jewel,"  smiled  Mr.  Chester,  "  and  the  better  for 
being  a  dull  one.  —  Well  ?  " 

"  Varden's  daughter  —  that's  the  girl  I  kissed  "  — 

"  —  and  stole  the  bracelet  from  upon  the  king's  highway," 
said  Mr.  Chester,  composedly.     "  Yes ;  what  of  her  ?  " 


BAliNABY  RUDGE.  245 

"  She  wrote  a  note  at  our  liouse  to  tlie  young  woman,  say- 
ing she  lost  the  letter  I  brought  to  you,  and  you  burnt.  Our 
Joe  was  to  carry  it,  but  the  old  one  kept  him  at  home  all  next 
day,  on  purpose  that  he  shouldn't.  Next  morning  he  gave  it 
to  me  to  take  ;  and  here  it  is." 

"  You  didn't  deliver  it  then,  my  good  friend  ?  "  said  ^Ir. 
Chester,  twirling  Dolly's  note  between  his  linger  and  thumb, 
and  feigning  to  be  surprised. 

"I  supposed  you'd  want  to  have  it,"  retorted  Hugh.  -'Burn 
one,  burn  all,  I  thought." 

"  ]\[y  devil-may-care  acquaintance,"  said  ^Mr.  Chester  — 
"  really  if  you  do  not  draw  some  nicer  distinctions,  your 
career  will  be  cut  short  with  most  surprising  suddenness. 
Don't  you  know  that  the  letter  you  brought  to  me,  was 
directed  to  my  son  who  resides  in  this  very  place  ?  And  can 
you  descry  no  difference  between  his  letters  and  those  addressed 
to  other  people  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  want  it,"  said  Hugh,  disconcerted  by  this 
reproof,  for  he  had  expected  high  praise,  "  give  it  me  back, 
and  I'll  deliver  it.     I  don't  know  how  to  please  you,  master." 

"1  shall  deliver  it,"  returned  his  patron,  putting  it  away 
after  a  moment's  consideration,  "  myself.  Does  the  young 
lady  walk  out,  on  fine  mornings  ?  " 

"  Mostly  —  about  noon  is  her  usual  time." 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  alone." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  In  the  grounds  before  the  house.  —  Tliem  that  the  foot- 
path crosses." 

"If  the  weather  should  be  fine,  I  may  throw  myself  in  her 
way  to-morrow,  perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  as  coolly  as  if  she 
were  one  of  his  ordinary  acquaintance.  "  Mr.  Hugh,  if  I 
should  ride  up  to  the  Maypole  door,  you  will  do  me  tlie  favor 
only  to  have  seen  me  once.  You  must  suppress  your  grati- 
tude, and  endeavor  to  forget  my  forbearance  in  tlie  matter  of 
the  bracelet.  It  is  natural  it  should  break  out,  and  it  does 
you  honor;  but  when  other  folks  are  b}^,  you  must, 'for  your 
own  sake  and  safety,- be  as  like  your  usual  self  as  thougli  you 
owed  me  no  obligation  whatever,  and  lind  never  stood  within 
these  walls.     You  comj)relien(l  iiic  '.' "' 


246  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

Hugh  understood  him  perfectly.  After  a  pause  he  muttered 
that  he  hoped  his  patrou  would  involve  him  in  no  trouble 
about  this  last  letter  ;  for  he  had  kept  it  back  solely  with  the 
view  of  pleasing  him.  He  was  continuing  in  this  strain, 
when  Mr.  Chester  with  a  most  beneficent  and  patronizing  air 
cut  him  short  by  saying,  — 

"  My  good  fellow,  you  have  my  promise,  my  word,  my 
sealed  bond  (for  a  verbal  pledge  with  me  is  quite  as  good) 
that  I  will  always  protect  you  so  long  as  you  deserve  it. 
Now,  do  set  your  mind  at  rest.  Keep  it  at  ease,  I  beg  of  you. 
When  a  man  puts  himself  in  my  power  so  thoroughly  as  you 
have  done,  I  really  feel  as  though  he  had  a  kind  of  claim 
upon  me.  I  am  more  disposed  to  mercy  and  forbearance 
under  such  circumstances  than  I  can  tell  you,  Hugh.  Do 
look  upon  me  as  your  protector,  and  rest  assured,  I  entreat 
you,  that  on  the  subject  of  that  indiscretion,  you  may  preserve, 
as  long  as  you  and  I  are  friends,  the  lightest  heart  that  ever 
beat  within  a  human  breast.  Fill  that  glass  once  more  to 
cheer  you  on  your  road  homewards  —  I  am  really  quite 
ashamed  to  think  how  far  you  have  to  go  —  and  then  God 
bless  you  for  the  night." 

"  They  think,"  said  Hugh,  when  he  had  tossed  the  liquor 
down,  "  that  I  am  sleeping  soundly  in  the  stable.  Ha  ha  ha  ! 
The  stable  door  is  shut,  but  the  steed's  gone,  master." 

"  You  are  a  most  convivial  fellow,"  returned  his  friend, 
"  and  I  love  your  humor  of  all  things.  Good-night !  Take 
the  greatest  possible  care  of  yourself,  for  my  sake  !  " 

It  was  remarkable  that  during  the  whole  interview,  each 
had  endeavored  to  catch  stolen  glances  of  the  other's  face, 
and  had  never  looked  full  at  it.  They  interchanged  one  brief 
and  hasty  glance  as  Hugh  went  out,  averted  their  eyes 
directly,  and  so  separated.  Hugh  closed  the  double  doors 
behind  him,  carefully  and  without  noise  ;  and  Mr.  Chester 
remained  in  his  easy -chair,  with  his  gaze  intently  fixed  upon 
the  fire. 

'•  Well ! "  he  said,  after  meditating  for  a  long  time  —  and 
said  with  a  deep  sigh  and  an  uneasy  shifting  of  his  attitude, 
as  though  he  dismissed  some  other  subject  from  his  thoughts, 
and  returned  to  that  which  had  held  possession  of  them  all 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  247 

the  day  —  "the  plot  thickens  ;  I  have  thrown  the  shell ;  it  will 
explode,  I  think,  in  eight  and  forty  hours,  and  should  scatter 
these  good  folks  amazingly.     We  shall  see  !  " 

He  went  to  bed  and  fell  asleep,  but  had  not  slept  long  when 
he  started  up  and  thought  that  Hugh  was  at  the  outer  door 
calling  in  a  strange  voice,  very  different  from  his  own,  to  be 
admitted.  The  delusion  was  so  strong  upon  him,  and  was  so 
full  of  that  vague  terror  of  the  night  in  which  such  visions 
have  their  being,  that  he  rose,  and  taking  his  sheathed  sword 
in  his  hand,  opened  the  door,  and  looked  out  upon  the  stair- 
case, and  towards  the  spot  where  Hugh  had  lain  asleep ;  and 
even  spoke  to  him  by  name.  But  all  was  dark  and  quiet, 
and  creeping  back  to  bed  again,  he  fell,  after  an  hour's 
uneasy  watching,  into  a  second  sleep,  and  woke  no  more  till 
mornino:. 


248  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

The  thoughts  of  worldly  men  are  forever  regulated  by  a 
moral  law  of  gravitation,  which,  like  the  physical  one,  holds 
them  down  to  earth.  The  brigltt  glory  of  day,  and  the  silent 
wonders  of  a  starlit  night,  appeal  to  their  minds  in  vain. 
There  are  no  signs  in  the  sun,  or  in  the  moon,  or  in  the  stars, 
for  their  reading.  They  are  like  some  wise  men,  who,  learning 
to  know  each  planet  by  its  Latin  name,  have  quite  forgotten 
such  small  heavenly  constellations  as  Charity,  Forbearance, 
Universal  Love,  and  Mercy,  although  they  shine  by  night  and 
day  so  brightly  that  the  blind  may  see  them ;  and  who,  look- 
ing upward  at  the  spangled  sky,  see  nothing  there  but  the 
reflection  of  their  own  great  wisdom  and  book-learning. 

It  is  curious  to  imagine  these  people  of  the  world,  busy  in 
thought,  turning  their  eyes  toward  the  countless  spheres  that 
shine  above  us,  and  making  them  reflect  the  only  images  their 
minds  contain.  The  man  who  lives  but  in  the  breath  of 
princes,  has  nothing  in  his  sight  but  stars  for  courtiers' 
breasts.  The  envious  man  beholds  his  neighbors'  honors 
even  in  the  sky  ;  to  the  money-hoarder,  and  the  mass  of  worldly 
folk,  the  whole  great  universe  above  glitters  with  sterling 
coin  —  fresh  from  the  mint  —  stamped  with  the  sovereign's 
head  coming  always  between  them  and  heaven,  turn  where  they 
may.  So  do  the  shadows  of  our  own  desires  stand  between  us 
and  our  better  angels,  and  thus  their  brightness  is'  eclipsed. 

Everything  was  fresh  and  gay,  as  though  the  world  were 
but  that  morning  made,  when  Mr.  Chester  rode  at  a  tranquil 
pace  along  the  Forest  road.  Though  early  in  the  season,  it 
was  warm  and  genial  weather ;  the  trees  were  budding  into 
leaf,  the  hedges  and  the  grass  were  green,  the  air  was  musical 
with  songs  of  birds,  and  high  above  them  all  the  lark  poured 
out  her  richest  melody.     In  shady  spots,  the  morning  dew 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  249 

sparkled  on  each  3'oung  leaf  and  blade  of  grass ;  and  where 
the  sun  was  shining,  some  diamond  drops  yet  glistened 
brightly,  as  in  unwillingness  to  leave  so  fair  a  world,  and  have 
such  brief  existence.  Even  the  light  wind,  whose  rustling 
was  as  gentle  to  the  ear  as  softly  falling  water,  had  its  hope 
and  promise ;  and,  leaving  a  pleasant  fragrance  in  its  track  as 
it  went  fluttering  by,  whispered  of  its  intercourse  with 
Summer,  and  of  his  happy  coming. 

The  solitary  rider  went  glancing  on  among  the  trees,  from 
sunlight  into  shade  and  back  again,  at  the  same  even  pace  — 
looking  about  him,  certainly,  from  time  to  time,  but  with  no 
greater  thought  of  the  day  or  the  scene  through  which  he 
moved,  than  that  he  was  fortunate  (being  choicely  dressed)  to 
have  such  favorable  weather.  He  smiled  very  complacently 
at  such  times,  but  rather  as  if  he  were  satisfied  with  himself 
than  with  anything  else :  and  so  went  riding  on,  upon  his 
chestnut  cob,  as  pleasant  to  look  upon  as  his  own  horse,  and 
probably  far  less  sensitive  to  the  many  cheerful  influences  by 
which  he  was  surrounded. 

In  course  of  time,  the  Maypole's  massive  chimneys  rose 
upon  his  view :  but  he  quickened  not  his  pace  one  jot,  and 
with  the  same  cool  gravity  rode  up  to  the  tavern  porch. 
John  Willet,  who  was  toasting  his  red  face  before  a  great 
fire  in  the  bar,  and  who,  with  surpassing  foresight  and  quick- 
ness of  apprehension,  had  been  thinking,  as  he  looked  at  the 
blue  sky,  that  if  that  state  of  things  lasted  much  longer,  it 
might  ultimately  become  necessary  to  leave  off  fires  and  throw 
the  windows  open,  issued  forth  to  hold  his  stirrup ;  calling 
lustily  for  Hugh. 

"  Oh,  you're  here,  are  you,  sir  ?  "  said  John  rather  surprised 
by  the  quickness  with  which  he  appeared.  ''  Take  this  here 
valuable  animal  into  the  stable,  and  have  more  tlian  particular 
care  of  him  if  you  want  to  keep  your  place.  A  mortal  lazy 
fellow,  sir;  he  needs  a  deal  of  looking  after." 

"But  you  have  a  son,"  returned  Mr.  Chester,  givii^g  his 
bridle  to  Hugh  as  he  dismounted,  and  acknowledging  liis 
salute  by  a  careless  motion  of  his  hand  towards  his  hat. 
"  Why  don't  you  make  him  useful  ?  " 

''  Why,  the  truth   is,  sir,"  replied  John  with  great   impor- 


250  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

taiice,    "that   my    son — what,   you're   a   listening   are   yon, 
villain  ?  "  " 

"  Who's  listening  ?  "  returned  Hugh  angrily.  "  A  treat, 
indeed,  to  hear  i/ou  speak  !  Would  you  have  me  take  liiin  in 
till  he's  cool  ?  " 

"  Walk  him  up  and  down  further  off  then,  sir  ?  "  cried  old 
John,  "and  when  you  see  me  and  a  noble  gentleman  enter- 
taining ourselves  with  talk,  keep  your  distance.  If  you  don't 
know  your  distance,  sir,"  added  Mr.  Willet,  after  an 
enormously  long  pause,  during  which  he  fixed  his  great  dull 
eyes  on  Hugh,  and  waited  with  exemplary  patience  for  any 
little  property  in  the  way  of  ideas  that  might  be  coming  to 
him,  "  we'll  find  a  way  to  teach  you,  pretty  soon." 

Hugh  shrugged 'his  shoulders  scornfully,  and  in  his  reckless 
swaggering  way,  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  little  green, 
and  there,  with  the  bridle  slung  loosely  over  his  shoulder, 
led  the  horse  to  and  fro,  glancing  at  his  master  every  now 
and  then  from  under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  with  as  sinister  an 
aspect  as  one  would  desire  to  see. 

Mr.  Chester,  who,  without  appearing  to  do  so,  had  eyed 
him  attentively  during  this  brief  dispute,  stepped  into  the 
porch,  and  turning  abruptly  to  Mr.  Willet,  said,  — 

"  You  keep  strange  servants,  John." 

"Strange  enough  to  look  at,  sir,  certainly,"  answered  the 
host ;  "  but  out  of  doors  ;  for  horses,  dogs,  and  the  like  of 
that ;  there  ain't  a  better  man  in  England  than  is  that  MJiypole 
Hugh  yonder.  He  ain't  fit  for  indoors,"  added  Mr.  Willet, 
with  the  confidential  air  of  a  man  who  felt  his  own  superior 
nature,  "/do  that;  but  if  that  chap  had  only  a  little  imagi- 
nation, sir,"  — 

"  He's  an  active  fellow  now,  I  dare  swear,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  in  a  musing  tone,  which  seemed  to  suggest  that  he 
would  have  said  the  same  had  there  been  nobody  to  hear 
him. 

"  Active,  sir ! "  retorted  John,  with  quite  an  expression 
in  his  face ;  "  that  chap  !  Halloa  there  !  You,  sir  !  Bring 
that  horse  here,  and  go  and  hang  my  wig  on  the  weather- 
cock, to  show  this  gentleman  whether  you're  one  of  the  lively 
sort  or  not." 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  251 

Hugh  made  no  answer,  but  throwing  the  bridle  to  his 
master,  and  snatching  his  wig  from  his  head,  in  a  manner  so 
unceremonious  and  hasty  that  the  action  discomposed  Mr. 
Willet  not  a  little,  though  performed  at  his  own  special  desire, 
climbed  nimbly  to  the  very  summit  of  the  maypole  before  the 
house,  and  hanging  the  wig  upon  the  weathercock,  sent  it 
twirling  round  like  a  roasting  jack.  Having  achieved  this 
performance,  he  cast  it  on  the  ground,  and  sliding  down  the 
pole  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  alighted  on  his  feet  almost 
as  soon  as  it  had  touched  the  earth. 

"There,  sir,''  said  John,  relapsing  into  his  usual  stolid 
state,  "3'ou  won't  see  that  at  many  houses,  besides  the 
Maypole,  where  there's  good  accommodation  for  man  and 
beast  —  nor  that  neither,  though  that  with  him  is  nothing." 

This  last  remark  bore  reference  to  his  vaulting  on  horse- 
back, as  upon  ^Ir.  Chester's  first  visit,  and  quickly  disappear- 
ing by  the  stable  gate. 

^'That  with  him  is  nothing,"  repeated  Mr.  Willet,  brushing 
his  wig  with  his  wrist,  and  in^vardly  resolving  to  distribute  a 
small  charge  for  dust  and  damage  to  that  article  of  dress, 
through  the  various  items  of  his  guest's  bill ;  "  he'll  get  out 
of  a'most  any  winder  in  the  house.  There  never  was  such  a 
chap  for  flinging  himself  about  and  never  hurting  his  bones. 
It's  my  opinion,  sir,  that  it's  pretty  nearly  all  owing  to  his 
not  having  any  imagination  ;  and  that  if  imagination  couhl 
be  (which  it  can't)  knocked  into  him,  he'd  never  be  able  to 
do  it  any  more.     But  we  was  a-talking,  sir,  about  my  son." 

"True,  Willet,  true,"  said  his  visitor,  turning  again 
towards  the  landlord  with  his  accustomed  serenity  of  face. 
"My  good  friend,  what  about  him  ?  " 

It  has  been  reported  that  Mr.  Willet,  previously  to  making 
answer,  winked.  But  as  he  never  was  known  to  be  guilty  of 
such  lightness  of  conduct  either  before  or  afterwards,  this 
may  be  looked  upon  as  a  malicious  invention  of  his  enemies 
—  founded,  perhaps,  upon  the  undisputed  circumstance  of  liis 
taking  his  guest  by  the  third  breast  button  of  his  coat,  count- 
ing downwards  from  the  chin,  and  pouring  his  reply  into 
his  ear,  — 

"Sir,"  whispered   John,    with  dignity,   "I    know    my  duty. 


252  BAR  NAB  Y  BULGE. 

We  want  no  love-making  here,  sir,  unbeknown  to  parents. 
I  respect  a  certain  young  gentleman,  taking  him  in  the  light 
of  a  young  gentleman  ;  I  respect  a  certain  young  lady,  taking 
her  in  the  light  of  a  young  lady ;  but  of  the  two  as  a  couple, 
I  have  no  knowledge,  sir,  none  whatever.  My  son,  sir,  is 
upon  his  patrol." 

"  I  thought  I  saw  him  looking  through  the  corner  window 
but  this  moment,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  who  naturally  thought 
that  being  on  patrol,  implied  walking  about  somewhere. 

"  Ko  doubt  you  did,  sir,"  returned  John.  "  He  is  upon  his 
patrol  of  honor,  sir,  not  to  leave  the  premises.  Me  and 
some  friends  of  mine  that  use  the  Maypole  of  an  evening, 
sir,  considered  what  was  best  to  be  done  with  him,  to  prevent 
his  doing  anything  unpleasant  in  opposing  your  desires ;  and 
we've  put  him  on  his  patrol.  And  what's  more,  sir,  he 
won't  be  off  his  patrol  for  a  pretty  long  time  to  come,  I  can 
tell  you  that." 

When  he  had  communicated  this  briglit  idea,  which  had 
had  its  origin  in  the  perusal  by  the  village  cronies  of  a  news- 
paper, containing  among  other  matters,  an  account  of  how 
some  officer  pending  the  sentence  of  some  court-martial  had 
been  enlarged  on  parole,  Mr.  Willet  drew  back  from  his 
guest's  ear,  and  without  any  visible  alteration  of  feature, 
chuckled  thrice  audibly.  This  nearest  approach  to  a  laugh 
in  which  he  ever  indulged  (and  that  but  seldom  and  only  on 
extreme  occasions),  never  even  curled  his  lip  or  effected  the 
smallest  change  in  —  no,  not  so  much  as  a  slight  wagging  of 
—  his  great,  fat,  double  chin,  which  at  these  times,  as  at  all 
others,  remained  a  perfect  desert  in  the  broad  map  of  his  face ; 
one  changeless,  dull,  tremendous  blank. 

Lest  it  should  be  matter  of  surprise  to  any,  that  Mr.  Willet 
adopted  this  bold  course  in  opposition  to  one  whom  he  had 
often  entertained,  and  who  had  always  paid  his  way  at  the 
Maypole  gallantly,  it  may  be  remarked  that  it  was  his  very 
penetration  and  sagacity  in  this  respect,  which  occasioned  him 
to  indulge  in  those  unusual  demonstrations  of  jocularity,  just 
now  recorded.  For  Mr.  Willet,  after  carefully  balancing 
father  and  son  in  his  mental  scales,  had  arrived  at  the  distinct 
conclusion  that  the  old  gentleman  was  a  better  sort  of  cus- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  253 

tomer  than  the  j^oung  one.  Throwing  his  landlord  into  the 
same  scale,  which  was  already  turned  by  this  consideration, 
and  heaping  upon  him,  again,  his  strong  desires  to  run  counter 
to  the  unfortunate  Joe,  and  his  opposition  as  a  general  principle 
to  all  matters  of  love  and  matrimony,  it  went  down  to  the 
very  ground  straightway,  and  sent  the  light  cause  of  the 
younger  gentleman  flying  upwards  to  the  ceiling.  Mr.  Chester 
was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  be  by  any  means  dim-sighted  to 
Mr.  Willet's  motives,  but  he  thanked  him  as  graciously  as  if 
he  had  been  one  of  the  most  disinterested  martyrs  that  ever 
shone  on  earth;  and  leaving  him  with  many  complimentary 
reliances  on  his  great  taste  and  judgment,  to  prepare  whatever 
dinner  he  might  deem  most  fitting  the  occasion,  bent  his  steps 
towards  the  Warren. 

Dressed  with  more  than  his  usual  elegance  ;  assuming  a 
gracefulness  of  manner,  which,  though  it  was  the  result  of 
long  study,  sat  easily  upon  him  and  became  him  well ;  com- 
posing his  features  into  their  most  serene  and  prepossessing 
expression  ;  and  setting  in  short  that  guard  upon  himself,  at 
every  point,  which  denoted  that  he  attached  no  slight  im- 
portance to  the  impression  he  was  about  to  make ;  he  entered 
the  bounds  of  Miss  Haredale's  usual  walk.  He  had  not  gone 
far,  or  looked  about  him  long,  when  he  descried  coming 
towards  him,  a  female  figure.  A  glimpse  of  the  form  and 
dress  as  she  crossed  a  little  wooden  bridge  which  lay  between 
them,  satisfied  him  that  he  had  found  her  whom  he  desired  to 
see.  He  threw  himself  in  her  way,  and  a  very  few  paces 
brought  them  close  together. 

He  raised  his  hat  from  his  head,  and  yielding  the  path, 
suffered  her  to  pass  him.  Then,  as  if  the  idea  had  but  that 
moment  occurred  to  him,  he  turned  hastily  back  and  said  in 
an  agitated  voice,  — 

"  I  beg  pardon  —  do  I  address  Miss  Haredale  ?  " 

She  stopped  in  some  confusion  at  being  so  unexpectedly 
accosted  by  a  stranger ;  and  answered,  "  Yes." 

"  Something  told  me,"  he  said,  looking  a  comidiment  to  her 
beauty,  "  that  it  could  be  no  other.  Miss  Haredale,  I  bear  a 
name  which  is  not  unknown  to  you  —  which  it  is  a  pride,  and 
yet  a  pain  to  me  to  know,  sounds  pleasantly  in  your  ears.     I 


254  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

am  a  man  advanced  in  life  as  you  see.  I  am  the  father  of  him 
whom  you  honor  and  distinguish  above  all  other  men. 
May  I  for  weighty  reasons  which  fill  me  with  distress,  beg 
but  a  minute's  conv^ersation  with  you  here  ?  " 

Who  that  was  inexperienced  in  deceit,  and  had  a  frank  and 
youthful  heart,  could  doubt  the  speaker's  truth  —  could  doubt 
it  too,  when  the  voice  that  spoke,  was  like  the  faint  echo  of 
one  she  knew  so  well,  and  so  much  loved  to  hear  ?  She  in- 
clined her  head,  and  stopping,  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  ground. 

"  A  little  more  apart  —  among  these  trees.  It  is  an  old 
man's  hand.  Miss  Haredale ;  an  honest  one,  believe  me." 

She  put  hers  in  it  as  he  said  these  words,  and  suffered  him 
to  lead  her  to  a  neighboring  seat. 

"  You  alarm  me,  sir,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  You  are 
not  the  bearer  of  any  ill  news,  I  hope  ?  " 

''  Of  none  that  you  anticipate,"  he  answered,  sitting  down 
beside  her.  "  Edward  is  well  —  quite  well.  It  is  of  him  I 
wish  to  speak,  certainly  ;  but  I  have  no  misfortune  to  com- 
municate.'* 

She  bowed  her  head  again,  and  made  as  though  she  would 
have  begged  him  to  proceed ;  but  said  nothing. 

"  I  am  sensible  that  I  speak  to  you  at  a  disadvantage,  dear 
Miss  Haredale.  Believe  me  that  I  am  not  so  forgetful  of  the 
feelings  of  my  younger  days  as  not  to  know  that  you  are  little 
disposed  to  view  me  with  favor.  You  have  heard  me 
described  as  cold-hearted,  calculating,  selfish  "  — 

"  I  have  never,  sir,"  —  she  interposed  with  an  altered  manner 
and  a  firmer  voice  ;  "  I  have  never  heard  you  spoken  of  in 
harsh  or  disrespectful  terms.  You  do  a  great  wrong  to 
Edward's  nature  if  you  believe  him  capable  of  any  mean  or 
base  proceeding." 

"  Pardon  me,  my  sweet  young  lady,  but  your  uncle  "  — 

"Nor  is  it  my  uncle's  nature  either,"  she  replied,  with  a 
heightened  color  in  her  cheek.  "It  is  not  his  nature  to 
stab  in  the  dark,  nor  is  it  mine  to  love  such  deeds." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  would  have  left  him ;  but  he 
detained  her  with  a  gentle  hand,  and  besought  her  in  such 
persuasive  accents  to  hear  him  but  another  minute,  that  she 
was  easily  prevailed  upon  to  comply,  and  so  sat  down  again. 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  255 

"  And  it  is/'  said  Mr.  Chester,  looking  upward,  and 
apostrophizing  the  air ;  '•  it  is  this  frank,  ingenuous,  noble 
nature,  Xed,  that  you  can  wound  so  lightly.  Shame  —  shame 
upon  you,  boy  !  " 

She  turned  towards  him  quickly,  and  with  a  scornful  look 
and  flashing  eyes.  There  were  tears  in  Mr.  Chester's,  but  he 
dashed  them  hurriedly  away,  as  though  unwilling  that  his 
weakness  should  be  known,  and  regarded  her  with  mingled 
admiration  and  compassion. 

"I  never  until  now,"  he  said,  "believed,  that  the  frivolous 
actions  of  a  young  man  could  move  me  like  these  of  my  own 
son.  I  never  knew  till  now,  the  worth  of  a  woman's  heart, 
which  boys  so  lightly  win,  and  lightly  fling  away.  Trust  me, 
dear  young  lady,  that  I  never  until  now  did  know  3^our 
worth  ;  and  though  an  abhorrence  of  deceit  and  falsehood  has 
impelled  me  to  seek  you  out,  and  would  have  done  so  had  you 
been  the  poorest  and  least  gifted  of  your  sex,  I  should  have 
lacked  the  fortitude  to  sustain  this  interview  could  I  have 
pictured  you  to  my  imagination  as  you  really  are." 

Oh  !  If  ^Irs.  Varden  could  have  seen  the  virtuous  gentle- 
man as  he  said  these  words,  with  indignation  sparkling  from 
his  eyes  —  if  she  could  have  heard  his  broken,  quavering  voice 
—  if  she  could  have  beheld  him  as  he  stood  bareheaded  in 
the  sunlight,  and  with  unwonted  energy  poured  forth  his 
eloquence  ! 

With  a  haughty  face,  but  pale  and  trembling  too,  Emma 
regarded  him  in  silence.  She  neither  spoke  nor  moved,  but 
gazed  upon  him  as  though  she  would  look  into  his  heart. 

"  I  throw  ottV'  said  ^Ir.  Chester,  "  the  restraint  which 
natural  affection  would  impose  on  some  men,  and  reject  all 
bonds  but  those  of  truth  and  duty.  Miss  Haredale,  you  are 
deceived  ;  you  are  deceived  by  your  unworthy  lover,  and  my 
unworthy  son." 

Still  she  looked  at  him  steadily,  and  still  said  not  one 
word. 

"  I  have  ever  opposed  his  professions  of  love  for  you  ;  you 
will  do  me  the  justice,  dear  Miss  Haredale,  to  remember  that. 
Your  uncle  and  myself  were  enemies  in  early  life,  and  if  T 
had  sought  retaliation,  I  might  have   found   it  here.     But  as 


256  BABXABY  BUDGE. 

we  grow  older,  we  grow  wiser  —  better,  I  would  fain  hope  — 
and  from  the  first,  I  have  opposed  him  in  this  attempt.  I 
foresaw  the  end,  and  would  have  spared  you,  if  I  could.-' 

''  Speak  plainl}',  sir,"  she  faltered.  "  You  deceive  me,  or 
are  deceived  yourself.  I  do  not  believe  you  —  I  cannot  —  I 
should  not."' 

'^  First,"  said  ^Ir.  Chester,  soothingly,  ''for  there  may  be  in 
your  mind  some  latent  angry  feeling  to  w^hich  I  would  not 
appeal,  pray  take  this  letter.  It  reached  my  hands  by  chance, 
and  by  mistake,  and  should  have  accounted  to  you  (as  I  am 
told)  for  my  son's  not  answering  some  other  note  of  yours. 
God  forbid.  Miss  Haredale,"  said  the  good  gentleman,  w4th 
great  emotion,  ''that  there  should  be  in  your  gentle  breast 
one  causeless  ground  of  quarrel  Avith  him.  You  should  know, 
and  you  will  see,  that  he  was  in  no  fault  here." 

There  appeared  something  so  very  candid,  so  scrupulously 
honorable,  so  very  truthful  and  just  in  this  course  —  some- 
thing which  rendered  the  upright  person  who  resorted  to  it, 
so  worthy  of  belief  —  that  Emma's  heart,  for  the  first  time, 
sunk  within  her.     She  turned  away,  and  burst  into  tears. 

'•  I  would,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  leaning  over  her,  and  speaking 
in  mild  and  quite  \nenerable  accents  ;  "  I  would,  dear  girl,  it 
W'Cre  my  task  to  banish,  not  increase,  those  tokens  of  your 
grief.  My  son,  my  erring  son,  — I  will  not  call  him  deliber- 
ately criminal  in  this,  for  men  so  3'oung,  who  have  been  in- 
constant twice  or  thrice  before,  act  without  reflection,  almost 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  wrong  they  do,  —  will  break  his 
plighted  faith  to  you  ;  has  broken  it  even  now.  Shall  I  stop 
here,  and  having  given  you  this  w\arning,  leave  it  to  be 
fulfilled  ;  or  shall  I  go  on  ?  " 

'•  You  will  go  on,  sir,"  she  answered,  "and  speak  more 
plainly  yet,  in  justice  both  to  him  and  me." 

'-  My  dear  girl,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  bending  over  her  more 
affectionately  still ;  "  whom  I  would  call  my  daughter,  but 
the  Fates  forbid,  Edward  seeks  to  break  with  you  upon  a 
false  and  most  unwarrantable  pretence.  I  have  it  on  his  own 
showing ;  in  his  own  hand.  Forgive  me,  if  I  have  had  a 
watch  upon  his  conduct ;  I  am  his  father ;  I  had  a  regard  for 
your  peace  and  his  honor,  and  no  better  resource  was  left 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  257 

me.  There  lies  on  his  desk  at  this  moment,  ready  for  trans- 
mission to  you,  a  letter,  in  which  he  tells  you  that  our  poverty 

—  our  poverty ;  his  and  mine.  Miss  Haredale  —  forbids  him 
to  pursue  his  claim  upon  your  hand  ;  in  which  he  offers,  vol- 
untarily proposes,  to  free  you  from  your  pledge  ;  and  talks 
magnanimously  (men  do  so,  very  commonly,  in  such  cases) 
of  being  in  time  more  worthy  your  regard  —  and  so  forth. 
A  letter  to  be  plain,  in  which  he  not  only  jilts  you — pardon 
the  word ;  I  would  summon  to  your  aid  your  pride  and  dignity 

—  not  only  jilts  you,  I  fear,  in  favor  of  the  object  whose 
slighting  treatment  first  inspired  his  brief  passion  for  your- 
self and  gave  it  birth  in  wounded  vanit}',  but  affects  to  make 
a  merit  and  a  virtue  of  the  act." 

She  glanced  proudly  at  him  once  more,  as  by  an  involuntary 
impulse,  and  with  a  swelling  breast  rejoined,  '-  If  what  you 
say  be  true,  he  takes  much  needless  trouble,  sir,  to  compass 
his  design.  He  is  very  tender  of  my  peace  of  mind.  I  quite 
thank  him." 

"The  truth  of  what  I  tell  you,  dear  j^oung  lady,"  he 
replied,  "you  will  test  by  the  receipt  or  non-receipt  of  the 
letter  of  which  I  speak.  —  Haredale,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  de- 
lighted to  see  you,  although  we  meet  under  singular  circum- 
stances, and  upon  a  melancholy  occasion.  I  hope  you  are 
very  well." 

At  these  words  the  young  lady  raised  her  eyes,  which  were 
filled  with  tears  ;  and  seeing  that  her  uncle  indeed  stood 
before  them,  and  being  quite  unequal  to  the  trial  of  hearing 
or  of  speaking  one  word  more,  hurriedly  withdrew,  and  left 
them.  They  stood  looking  at  each  other,  and  at  her  retreating 
figure,  and  for  a  long  time  neither  of  them  spoke. 

"What  does  this  mean?  Explain  it,"  said  Mr.  Haredale 
at  length.     "  Why  are  3'ou  here,  and  why  with  lier  ?  " 

"]\Iy  dear  friend,"  rejoined  the  other,  resuming  his  accus- 
tomed manner  with  infinite  readiness,  and  throwing  himself 
upon  the  bench  with  a  weary  air,  "you  told  me  not  very  long 
ago,  at  that  delightful  old  tavern  of  which  you  are  the 
esteemed  proprietor  (and  a  most  charming  establisliment  it  is 
for  persons  of  rural  pursuits  and  in  robust  health,  who  are 
not  liable  to  take  cold),  that  I  had  the  liead  and  heart  of  an 


258  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

evil  spirit  in  all  matters  of  deception.  I  thought  at  the  time  ; 
I  really  did  think  ;  you  flattered  me.  But  now  I  begin  to 
wonder  at  your  discernment,  and  vanity  apart,  do  honestly 
believe  you  spoke  the  truth.  Did  you  ever  counterfeit 
extreme  ingenuousness  and  honest  indignation  ?  My  dear 
fellow,  you  have  no  conception,  if  you  never  did,  how  faint 
the  effort  makes  one." 

Mr.  Haredale  surveyed  him  with  a  look  of  cold  contempt. 
"  You  may  evade  an  explanation,  I  know,"  he  said,  folding 
his  arms.     "  But  I  must  have  it.     I  can  wait." 

"  Not  at  all.  Not  at  all,  my  good  fellow.  You  shall  not 
wait  a  moment,"  returned  his  friend,  as  he  lazily  crossed  his 
legs.  "  The  simplest  thing  in  the  world.  It  lies  in  a  nut- 
shell. Ned  has  written  her  a  letter  —  a  boyish,  honest,  senti- 
mental composition,  which  remains  as  yet  in  his  desk,  because 
he  hasn't  had  the  heart  to  send  it.  I  have  taken  a  liberty, 
for  which  my  parental  affection  and  anxiety  are  a  sufficient 
excuse,  and  possessed  myself  of  the  contents.  I  have  described 
them  to  your  niece  (a  most  enchanting  person,  Haredale  ;  quite 
an  angelic  creature),  with  a  little  coloring  and  description 
adapted  to  our  purpose.  It's  done.  You  may  be  quite  easy. 
It's  all  over.  Deprived  of  their  adherents  and  mediators  ; 
her  pride  and  jealousy  roused  to  the  utmost ;  with  nobody 
to  undeceive  her,  and  you  to  confirm  me ;  you  will  find 
that  their  intercourse  will  close  with  her  answer.  If  she 
receives  Ned's  letter  by  to-morrow  noon,  you  may  date  their 
parting  from  to-morrow  night.  No  thanks,  I  beg ;  you  owe 
me  none.  I  have  acted  for  myself ;  and  if  I  have  forwarded 
our  compact  with  all  the  ardor  even  you  could  have  desired 
I  have  done  so  selfishly,  indeed." 

"  I  curse  the  compact,  as  you  call  it,  with  my  whole  heart 
and  soul,"  returned  the  other.  "  It  was  made  in  an  evil  hour. 
I  have  bound  myself  to  a  lie  ;  I  have  leagued  myself  with  you  ; 
and  though  I  did  so  with  a  righteous  motive,  and  though  it 
cost  me  such  an  effort  as  haply  few  men  know,  I  hate  and 
despise  myself  for  the  deed." 

"  You  are  very  warm,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with  a  languid 
smile. 

"  I  am  warm.     I  am  maddened  by  your  coldness.     Death, 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  259 

Chester,  if  your  blood  ran  warmer  in  your  veins,  and  there 
were  no  restraints  upon  me,  such  as  those  that  hold  and  drag 
me  back  —  well ;  it  is  done  ;  you  tell  me  so,  and  on  such  a 
point  I  may  believe  you.  When  I  am  most  remorseful  for 
this  treachery,  I  will  think  of  you  and  your  marriage,  and  try 
to  justify  myself  in  such  remembrances,  for  having  torn 
asunder  Emma  and  your  sou,  at  any  cost.  Our  bond  is 
cancelled  now,  and  we  may  part." 

Mr.  Chester  kissed  his  hand  gracefully ;  and  with  the 
same  tranquil  face  he  had  preserved  throughout  —  even  when 
he  had  seen  his  companion  so  tortured  and  transported  by 
his  passion  that  his  whole  frame  was  shaken  —  lay  in  his 
lounging  posture  on  the  seat  and  watched  him  as  he  walked 
away. 

"My  scape-goat  and  my  drudge  at  school,"  he  said,  raising 
his  head  to  look  after  him ;  "  my  friend  of  later  days,  who 
could  not  keep  his  mistress  when  he  had  won  her,  and  threw 
me  in  her  way  to  carry  off  the  prize ;  I  triumph  in  the  present 
and  the  past.  Bark  on,  ill-favored,  ill-conditioned  cur;  for- 
tune has  ever  been  with  me  —  I  like  to  hear  you." 

The  spot  where  they  had  met  was  in  an  avenue  of  trees. 
Mr.  Haredale  not  passing  out  on  either  hand,  had  walked 
straight  on.  He  chanced  to  turn  his  head  when  at  some 
considerable  distance,  and  seeing  that  his  late  companion  had 
by  that  time  risen  and  was  looking  after  him,  stood  still  as 
though  he  half  expected  him  to  follow  and  waited  for  his 
coming  up. 

"It  maij  come  to  that  one  day,  but  not  yet,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  waving  his  hand,  as  though  they  were  the  best  of 
friends,  and  turning  away.  "  Not  yet,  Haredale.  Life  is 
pleasant  enough  to  me  ;  dull  and  full  of  heaviness  to  you. 
No.  To  cross  swords  with  such  a  man  —  to  indulge  his 
humor  unless  upon  extremity  —  would  be  weak  indeed." 

For  all  that,  he  drew  his  sword  as  he  walked  along,  and  in 
an  absent  humor  ran  his  eye  from  hilt  to  i)oint  full  twenty 
times.  But  thoughtfulness  begets  wrinkles ;  remembering 
this,  he  soon  put  it  up,  smoothed  his  contracted  brow, 
hummed  a  gay  tune  with  greater  gayety  of  manner,  and  was 
his  unruffled  self  again. 


260  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

A  HOMELY  proverb  recognizes  the  existence  of  a  trouble- 
some class  of  persons  who,  having  an  inch  conceded  them, 
will  take  an  ell.  Not  to  quote  the  illustrious  examples  of 
those  heroic  scourges  of  mankind,  whose  amiable  path  in  life 
has  been  from  birth  to  death  through  blood,  and  fire,  and 
ruin,  and  who  would  seem  to  have  existed  for  no  better 
purpose  than  to  teach  mankind  that  as  the  absence  of  pain  is 
pleasure,  so  the  earth  purged  of  their  presence,  may  be 
deemed  a  blessed  place  — not  to  quote  such  mighty  instances 
it  will  be  sufficient  to  refer  to  old  John  Willet. 

Old  John  having  long  encroached  a  good  standard  inch,  full 
measure,  on  the  liberty  of  Joe,  and  having  snipped  off  a 
Flemish  ell  in  the  matter  of  the  parole,  grew  so  despotic  and 
so  great,  that  his  thirst  for  conquest  knew  no  bounds.  The 
more  3'oung  Joe  submitted,  the  more  absolute  old  John 
became.  The  ell  soon  faded  into  nothing.  Yards,  furlongs, 
miles  arose ;  and  on  went  old  John  in  the  pleasantest  manner 
possible,  trimming  off  an  exuberance  in  this  place,  shearing 
away  some  liberty  of  speech  or  action  in  that,  and  conducting 
himself  in  his  small  way  with  as  much  high  mightiness  and 
majesty,  as  the  most  glorious  tyrant  that  ever  had  his  statue 
reared  in  the  public  ways,  of  ancient  or  of  modern  times. 

As  great  men  are  urged  on  to  the  abuse  of  power  (when 
they  need  urging,  which  is  not  often)  by  their  flatterers  and 
dependents,  so  old  John  was  impelled  to  these  exercises  of 
authority  by  the  applause  and  admiration  of  his  Maypole 
cronies,  who,  in  the  intervals  of  their  nightly  pipes  and  pots, 
would  shake  their  heads  and  say  that  Mr.  Willet  was  a  father 
of  the  good  old  English  sort ;  that  there  were  no  new-fangled 
notions  or  modern  ways  in  him  ;  that  he  put  them  in  mind  of 
what  their  fathers  were  when  they  were  boys  ;  that  there  was 
no  mistake  about  him;  that  it  would  be  well  for  the  country 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  2G1 

if  there  were  more  like  him,  and  more  was  the  pity  that  there 
were  not ;  with  many  other  original  remarks  of  that  nature. 
Then  they  would  condescendingly  give  Joe  to  understand  that 
it  was  all  for  his  good,  and  he  would  be  thankful  for  it  one 
day ;  and  in  particular,  Mr.  Cobb  would  acquaint  him,  that 
when  he  was  his  age,  his  father  thought  no  more  of  giving 
him  a  parental  kick,  or  a  box  on  the  ears,  or  a  cuff  on  the 
head,  or  some  little  admonition  of  that  sort,  than  he  did  of 
any  other  ordinary  duty  of  life  ;  and  he  would  further  remark, 
with  looks  of  great  significance,  that  but  for  this  judicious 
bringing  up,  he  might  have  never  been  the  man  he  was  at 
that  present  speaking ;  which  was  probable  enough,  as  he 
was,  beyond  all  question,  the  dullest  dog  of  the  party.  In 
short,  between  old  John,  and  old  John's  friends,  there  never 
was  an  unfortunate  young  fellow  so  bullied,  badgered,  wor- 
ried, fretted,  and  browbeaten  ;  so  constantly  beset,  or  made 
so  tired  of  his  life,  as  poor  Joe  Willet. 

This  had  come  to  be  the  recognized  and  established  state  of 
things ;  but  as  John  was  very  anxious  to  flourish  his  suprem- 
acy before  the  eyes  of  IVIr.  Chester,  he  did  that  day  exceed 
himself,  and  did  so  goad  and  chafe  his  son  and  heir,  that  but 
for  Joe's  having  made  a  solemn  vow  to  keep  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  when  they  were  not  otherwise  engaged,  it  is  impossible 
to  say  what  he  might  have  done  with  them.  But  the  longest 
day  has  an  end,  and  at  length  Mr.  Chester  came  down-stairs 
to  mount  his  horse  which  was  ready  at  the  door. 

As  old  John  was  not  in  the  way  at  the  moment,  Joe,  who 
was  sitting  in  the  bar  ruminating  on  his  dismal  fate  and  the 
manifold  perfections  of  Dolly  Varden,  ran  out  to  hold  the 
guest's  stirrup,  and  assist  him  to  mount.  ^Mr.  Chester  was 
scarcely  in  the  saddle,  and  Joe  was  in  the  very  act  of  making 
him  a  graceful  bow,  when  old  John  came  diving  out  of  the 
porch,  and  collared  him. 

"  None  of  that,  sir,"  said  Jolin,  '^  none  of  tliat.  sir.  No 
breaking  of  patroles.  How  dare  you  come  out  of  the  door, 
sir,  without  leave  ?  You're  trying  to  get  away,  sir,  are  you, 
and  to  make  a  traitor  of  yourself  again  ?  What  do  you  mean, 
sir?" 

"Let   me   go,  father,"  said  .Inr,  iinploriiigly,  as  lie   markt'd 


262  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

the  smile  upon  their  visitor's  face,  and  observed  the  pleasure 
his  disgrace  afforded  him.  "  This  is  too  bad.  Who  wants  to 
get  away  ?  " 

"  Who  wants  to  get  away ! "  cried  John,  shaking  him. 
''  Why  you  do,  sir,  you  do.  "  You're  the  boy,  sir,"  added 
John,  collaring  with  one  hand,  and  aiding  the  effect  of  a  fare- 
well bow  to  the  visitor  with  the  other,  "  that  wants  to  sneak 
into  houses,  and  stir  up  differences  between  noble  gentlemen 
and  their  sons,  are  you,  eh  ?     Hold  your  tongue,  sir." 

Joe  made  no  effort  to  reply.  It  ^vas  the  crowning  circum- 
stance of  his  degradation.  He  extricated  himself  from  his 
father's  grasp,  darted  an  angry  look  at  the  departing  guest, 
and  returned  into  the  house. 

'^  But  for  her,"  thought  Joe,  as  he  threw  his  arms  upon  a 
table  in  the  common  room,  and  laid  his  head  upon  them, 
"but  for  Dolly,  who  I  couldn't  bear  should  think  me  the 
rascal  they  would  make  me  out  to  be  if  I  ran  away,  this  house 
and  I  should  part  to-night." 

It  being  evening  by  this  time,  Solomon  Daisy,  Tom  Cobb, 
and  Long  Parkes,  were  all  in  the  common  room  too,  and  had 
from  the  window  been  witnesses  of  what  had  just  occurred. 
Mr.  Willet  joining  them  soon  afterwards,  received  the  compli- 
ments of  the  company  with  great  composure,  and  lighting  his 
pipe,  sat  down  among  them. 

"  We'll  see,  gentlemen,"  said  John,  after  a  long  pause, 
"'  who's  the  master  of  this  house,  and  who  isn't.  We'll  see 
whether  boys  are  to  govern  men,  or  men  are  to  govern 
boys." 

"And  quite  right,  too,"  assented  Solomon  Daisy  with  some 
approving  nods ;  "  quite  right,  Johnny.  Very  good,  Johnny. 
Well  said,  Mr.  Willet.     Brayvo,  sir." 

John  slowly  brought  his  eyes  to  bear  upon  him,  looked  at 
him  for  a  long  time,  and  finally  made  answer  to  the  unspeak- 
able consternation  of  his  hearers,  "  When  I  want  encourage- 
ment from  you,  sir,  I'll  ask  you  for  it.  You  let  me  alone,  sir. 
I  can  get  on  without  you,  I  hope.  Don't  you  tackle  me,  sir,  if 
you  please." 

"  Don't  take  it  ill,  Johnny  ;  I  didn't  mean  any  harm," 
pleaded  the  little  man. 


ajr^li^^^  )  1^ 


rn 


*■"  yy.vX     * 


4  'J^'^— -  M?  y^ 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  2G3 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  John,  more  than  usually  obstinate 
after  his  late  success.  "  Never  mind,  sir.  I  can  stand  pretty 
firm  of  myself,  sir,  I  believe,  without  being  shored  up  by  you." 
And  having  given  utterance  to  this  retort,  Mr.  Willet  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  the  boiler,  and  fell  into  a  kind  of  tobacco-trance. 

The  spirits  of  the  company  being  somewhat  damped  by 
this  embarrassing  line  of  conduct  on  the  part  of  their  host, 
nothing  more  was  said  for  a  long  time  ;  but  at  length  ]\Ir.  Cobb 
took  upon  himself  to  remark,  as  he  rose  to  knock  the  ashes 
out  of  his  pipe,  that  he  hoped  Joe  would  thenceforth  learn  to 
obey  his  father  in  all  things ;  that  he  had  found,  that  day,  he 
was  not  one  of  the  sort  of  men  who  were  to  be  trifled  with  ; 
and  that  he  would  recommend  him,  poetically  speaking,  to 
mind  his  eye  for  the  future. 

"  I'd  recommend  you,  in  return,"  said  Joe,  looking  up  with 
a  flushed  face,  "  not  to  talk  to  me." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  cried  ^Ir.  Willett,  suddenly  rous- 
ing, himself,  and  turning  round. 

"I  won't,  father,"  cried  Joe,  smiting  the  table  with  his  fist, 
so  that  the  jugs  and  glasses  rung  again  ;  '■'  these  things  are 
hard  enough  to  bear  from  you ;  from  anybody  else  I  never 
will  endure  them  any  more.  Therefore  I  say,  ]\rr.  Cobb, 
don't  talk  to  me." 

"Why,  who  are  you,"  said  Mr.  Cobb,  sneeringly,  "that 
you're  not  to  be  talked  to,  eh,  Joe  ?  " 

To  which  Joe  returned  no  answer,  but  with  a  very  ominous 
shake  of  the  head,  resumed  his  old  position,  which  he  would 
have  peacefully  preserved  until  the  house  shut  up  at  night, 
but  that  'Mv.  Cobb,  stimulated  by  tlie  wonder  of  the  company 
at  the  young  man's  presumption,  retorted  with  sundry  taunts, 
which  proved  too  much  for  flesh  and  blood  to  bear.  Crowding 
into  one  moment  the  vexation  and  the  wrath  of  years,  Joe 
started  up,  overturned  the  table,  fell  upon  his  long  enemy, 
pummelled  him  with  all  his  miglit  and  main,  and  finished  by 
driving  him  with  surprising  swiftness  against  a  heap  of  spit- 
toons in  one  corner;  plunging  into  which,  head  foremost, 
with  a  tremendous  crash,  he  lay  at  full  length  among  the 
ruins,  stunned  and  motionless.  Then,  without  waiting  to 
receive  the  compliments  of  the  bystanders  on  the  victory  he 


264  BARN  A  BY  BUDGE. 

had  won,  he  retreated  to  his  own  bed-chamber,  and  consider- 
ing himself  in  a  state  of  siege,  piled  all  the  portable  furniture 
against  the  door  by  way  of  barricade. 

"  I  have  done  it  now,"  said  Joe,  as  he  sat  down  upon  his 
bedstead  and  wiped  his  heated  face.  "  I  knew  it  would  come 
at  last.  The  Maypole  and  I  must  part  company.  I'm  a 
roving    vagabond  —  she    hates    me    for    evermore  —  it's    all 


over  I 


f " 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  265 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

PoxDERiNG  on  his  iiiiliappy  lot,  Joe  sat  and  listened  for  a 
long  time,  expecting  every  moment  to  hear  their  creaking 
footsteps  on  the  stairs,  or  to  be  greeted  by  his  worthy  father 
with  a  summons  to  capitulate  unconditionally,  and  deliver 
himself  up  straightway.  But  neither  voice  nor  footstep  came  ; 
and  though  some  distant  echoes,  as  of  closing  doors  and  peo- 
ple hurrying  in  and  out  of  rooms,  resounding  from  time  to 
time  through  the  great  passages,  and  penetrating  to  his 
remote  seclusion,  gave  note  of  unusual  commotion  down- 
stairs, no  nearer  sound  disturbed  his  place  of  retreat,  which 
seemed  the  quieter  for  these  far-off  noises,  and  was  as  dull 
and  full  of  gloom  as  any  hermit's  cell. 

It  came  on  darker  and  darker.  The  old-fashioned  furniture 
of  the  chamber,  which  was  a  kind  of  hospital  for  all  the 
invalided  movables  in  the  house,  grew  indistinct  and  shadowy 
in  its  many  shapes ;  chairs  and  tables,  which  by  day  were  as 
honest  cripples  as  need  be,  assumed  a  doubtful  and  mysterious 
character ;  and  one  old  leprous  screen  of  faded  India  leather 
and  gold  binding,  which  had  kept  out  many  a  cold  breath  of 
air  in  days  of  yore  and  shut  in  many  a  jolly  face,  frowned  on 
him  with  a  spectral  aspect,  and  stood  at  full  height  in  its 
allotted  corner,  like  some  gaunt  ghost  who  waited  to  be 
questioned.  A  portrait  opposite,  the  window  —  a  queer,  old 
gray-eyed  general,  in  an  oval  frame  —  seemed  to  wink  and 
doze  as  the  light  decayed,  and  at  length,  when  the  last  faint 
glimmering  speck  of  day  went  out,  to  shut  its  eyes  in  good 
earnest,  and  fell  sound  asleep.  There  was  such  a  hush  and 
mystery  about  everything,  that  Joe  could  not  help  following 
its  example;  and  so  went  off  into  a  slumber  likewise,  and 
dreamed  of  Dolly,  till  the  clock  of  Chigwell  church  struck  two. 

Still  nobody  came.  The  distant  noises  in  the  house  liad 
ceased,  and  out  of  doors  all  was  (juiet  too ;  save  for  tlie  occa- 


266  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

sional  barking  of  some  deep-mouthed  dog,  and  the  shaking  of 
the  branches  by  the  night  wind.  He  gazed  mournfully  out 
of  window  at  each  well-known  object  as  it  lay  sleeping  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  moon ;  and  creeping  back  to  his  former  seat, 
thought  about  the  late  uproar,  until,  with  long  thinking  of,  it 
seemed  to  have  occurred  a  month  ago.  Thus,  between  dozing 
and  thinking,  and  walking  to  the  window  and  looking  out, 
the  night  wore  away ;  the  grim  old  screen,  and  the  kindred 
chairs  and  tables,  began  slowly  to  reveal  themselves  in  their 
accustomed  forms ;  the  gray-eyed  general  seemed  to  wink  and 
yawn  and  rouse  himself;  and  at  last  he  was  broad  awake 
again,  and  very  uncomfortable  and  cold  and  haggard  he 
looked,  in  the  dull  gray  light  of  morning. 

The  sun  had  begun  to  peep  above  the  forest  trees,  and 
alread}^  flung  across  the  curling  mist  bright  bars  of  gold, 
when  Joe  dropped  from  his  window  on  the  ground  below,  a 
little  bundle  and  his  trusty  stick,  and  prepared  to  descend 
himself. 

It  was  not  a  ver}^  difficult  task ;  for  there  were  so  many 
projections  and  gable  ends  in  the  way,  that  they  formed  a 
series  of  clumsy  steps,  with  no  greater  obstacle  than  a  jump 
of  some  few  feet  at  last.  Joe  with  his  stick  and  bundle  on 
his  shoulder,  quickly  stood  on  the  firm  earth,  and  looked  up 
at  the  old  Maypole,  it  might  be  for  the  last  time. 

He  didn't  apostrophize  it,  for  he  was  no  great  scholar.  He 
didn't  curse  it,  for  he  had  little  ill-will  to  give  to  anything  on 
earth.  He  felt  more  affectionate  and  kind  to  it  than  ever  he 
had  done  in  all  his  life  before,  so  said  with  all  his  heart, 
"  God  bless  you !  "  as  a  parting  wish,  and  turned  away. 

He  walked  along  at  a  brisk  pace,  big  with  great  thoughts 
of  going  for  a  soldier  and  dying  in  some  foreign  country 
where  it  was  very  hot  and  sandy,  and  leaving  God  knows 
what  unheard-of  wealth  in  prize  money  to  Dolly,  who  would 
be  very  much  affected  when  she  came  to  know  of  it ;  and  full 
of  such  youthful  visions,  which  were  sometimes  sanguine  and 
sometimes  melancholy,  but  always  had  her  for  their  main 
point  and  centre,  pushed  on  vigorously  until  the  noise  of 
London  sounded  in  his  ears,  and  the  Black  Lion  hove  in 
sight. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  267 

It  was  only  eight  o'clock  then,  and  very  much  astonished 
the  Black  Lion  was,  to  see  hiui  come  walking  in  with  dust 
upon  his  feet  at  that  early  hour,  with  no  gray  mare  to  bear 
him  company.  But  as  he  ordered  breakfast  to  be  got  ready 
with  all  speed,  and  on  its  being  set  before  him  gave  indis- 
putable tokens  of  a  hearty  appetite,  the  Lion  received  liim,  as 
usual,  with  a  hospitable  welcome  ;  and  treated  him  with  those 
marks  of  distinction,  which,  as  a  regular  customer,  and  one 
within   the  freemasonry  of  the  trade,  he  had  a  right  to  claim. 

This  Lion  or  landlord, — for  he  was  called  both  man  and 
beast,  by  reason  of  his  having  instructed  the  artist  who 
painted  his  sign,  to  convey  into  the  features  of  the  lordly 
brute  whose  effigy  it  bore,  as  near  a  counterpart  of  his  own 
face  as  his  skill  could  compass  and  devise,  —  was  a  gentleman 
almost  as  quick  of  apprehension,  and  of  almost  as  subtle  a 
wit,  as  the  mighty  John  himself.  But  the  difference  between 
them  lay  in  this  ;  that  whereas  Mr.  Willett's  extreme  sagacity 
and  acuteness  were  the  efforts  of  unassisted  nature,  the  Lion 
stood  indebted,  in  no  small  amount,  to  beer;  of  which  he 
swigged  such  copious  draughts,  that  most  of  his  faculties 
were  utterly  drowned  and  washed  away,  except  the  one  great 
faculty  of  sleep,  which  he  retained  in  surprising  perfection. 
The  creaking  Lion  over  the  house-door  was,  therefore,  to  say 
the  truth,  rather  a  drowsy,  tame,  and  fee])le  lion ;  and  as 
these  social  representatives  of  a  savage  class  are  usually  of  a 
conventional  character  (being  depicted,  for  the  most  part,  in 
impossible  attitudes  and  of  unearthly  colors)  he  was  fre- 
quently supposed  by  the  more  ignorant  and  uninformed 
among  the  neighbors,  to  be  the  veritable  portrait  of  the 
host  as  he  appeared  on  the  occasion  of  some  great  funeral 
ceremony  or  public  mourning. 

"  What  noisy  fellow  is  that  in  the  next  room  ?  "  said  Joe, 
when  he  had  disposed  of  his  breakfast,  and  had  washed  and 
brushed  himself. 

"  A  recruiting  sergeant,"  replied  the  Lion. 

Joe  started  involuntarily.  Here  was  the  very  thing  he  had 
been  dreaming  of,  all  the  way  along. 

"And  T  wish,"  said  the  Lion,  ''he  was  anywhere  else  but 
here.     The  party  make  noise  enough,  but  they  don't  call  for 


26S  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

much.  There's  great  cry  there,  Mr.  Willett,  but  very  little 
wool.     Your  father  wouldn't  like  'em,  /  know." 

Perhaps  not  much  under  any  circumstances.  Perhaps  if 
he  could  have  known  what  was  passing  at  that  moment  in 
Joe's  mind,  he  would  have  liked  them  still  less. 

"Is  he  recruiting  for  a  —  for  a  fine  regiment  ?"  said  Joe, 
glancing  at  a  little  round  mirror  that  hung  in  the  bar. 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  replied  the  host.  "  It's  much  the  same 
thing,  whatever  regiment  he's  recruiting  for.  I'm  told  there 
ain't  a  deal  of  difference  between  a  fine  man  and  another  one, 
when  they're  shot  through  and  through." 

"  They're  not  all  shot,"  said  Joe. 

"  No,"  the  Lion  answered,  "  not  all.  Those  that  are  — 
supposing  it's  done  easy  —  are  the  best  off  in  my  opinion." 

"  Ah  !  "  retorted  Joe,  "  but  you  don't  care  for  glory  ?  " 

"  For  what  ?  "  said  the  Lion. 

"  Glory." 

"No,"  returned  the  Lion,  with  supreme  indifference.  "I 
don't.  You're  right  in  that,  Mr.  Willet.  When  Glory  comes 
here  and  calls  for  anything  to  drink  and  changes  a  guinea 
to  pay  for  it,  I'll  give  it  him  for  nothing.  It's  my  belief, 
sir,  that  the  Glory's  arms  wouldn't  do  a  very  strong 
business." 

These  remarks  were  not  at  all  comforting.  Joe  walked  out, 
stopped  at  the  door  of  the  next  room,  and  listened.  The 
sergeant  was  describing  a  military  life.  It  was  all  drinking, 
he  said,  except  that  there  were  frequent  intervals  of  eating 
and  love-making.  A  battle  was  the  finest  thing  in  the  world 
—  when  your  side  won  it  —  and  Englishmen  always  did  that. 
"  Supposing  you  should  be  killed,  sir  ?  "  said  a  timid  voice  in 
one  corner.  "  Well,  sir,  supposing  you  should  be,"  said  the 
sergeant,  "  what  then  ?  Your  country  loves  you,  sir ;  his 
Majesty  King  George  the  Third  loves  you ;  your  memory  is 
honored,  revered,  respected  ;  everybody's  fond  of  you,  and 
grateful  to  you ;  your  name's  wrote  down  at  full  length  in  a 
book  in  the  War-ofhce.  Damme,  gentlemen,  we  must  all  die 
some  time,  or  another,  eh  ?  " 

The  voice  coughed,  and  said  no  more. 

Joe  walked  into  the  room.     A  group  of  half  a  dozen  fellows 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  260 

had  gathered  together  in  the  tap-room,  and  were  listening 
with  greedy  ears.  One  of  them,  a  carter  in  a  smock  frock, 
seemed  wavering  and  disposed  to  enlist.  The  rest,  who  were 
by  no  means  disposed,  strongly  urged  him  to  do  so  (according 
to  the  custom  of  mankind),  backed  the  sergeant's  arguments, 
and  grinned  among  themselves.  '- 1  say  nothing,  boys,"  said 
the  sergeant,  who  sat  a  little  apart  drinking  his  liquor.  "  For 
lads  of  spirit  *' — here  he  cast  an  eye  on  Joe  —  '-this  is  the 
time.  I  don't  want  to  inveigle  you.  Tlie  king's  not  come  to 
that,  I  hope.  Brisk  young  blood  is  what  we  want ;  not  milk 
and  water.  We  won't  take  live  men  out  of  six.  We  want 
top-sawyers,  we  do.  I'm  not  a-going  to  tell  tales  out  of 
school,  but,  damme,  if  every  gentleman's  son  that  carries  arms 
in  our  corps,  through  being  under  a  cloud  and  having  little 
differences  with  his  relations,  was  counted  up  "  —  here  his  eye 
fell  on  Joe  again,  and  so  good-naturedly,  that  Joe  beckoned 
him  out.     He  came  directly. 

. "  You're  a  gentlema.n,  by  G !  "  was  his  first  remark,  as 

he  slapped  him  on  the  back.  "  You're  a  gentleman  in  dis- 
guise.    So  am  I.     Let's  swear  a  friendship." 

Joe  didn't  exactly  do  that,  but  he  shook  hands  with  him, 
and  thanked  him  for  his  good  opinion. 

"  You  want  to  serve,"  said  his  new  friend.  '•  You  shall. 
You  were  made  for  it.  You're  one  of  us  by  nature.  What'U 
you  take  to  drink  ?  " 

"Nothing  just  now,"  replied  Joe,  smiling  faintly.  "I 
haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind." 

"  A  mettlesome  fellow  like  you,  and  not  made  up  his  mind  !  " 
cried  the  sergeant.  "  Here  —  let  me  give  the  bell  a  pull,  and 
you'll  make  up  your  mind  in  half  a  minute,  I  know." 

''  You're  right  so  far  "  —  answered  Joe,  '•  for  if  you  pull  the 
bell  here,  where  I'm  known,  there'll  be  an  end  of  my  soldier- 
ing inclinations  in  no  time.  Look  in  my  face.  You  see  me, 
do  you  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  replied  the  sergeant  with  an  oath,  '*  and  a  finer 
young  fellow  or  one  better  qualified  to  serve  his  king  and 
country,  I  never  set  my  "  —  he  used  an  adjective  in  this  place 
—  ''  eyes  on." 

''Thank  you,"  said  Joe,  '•  I  didn't  ask  you  for  want  of  a 


270  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

compliment,  but  thank  you  all  the  same.     Do  I  look  like  a 
sneaking  fellow  or  a  liar  ?  " 

The  sergeant  rejoined  with  many  choice  asseverations  that 
he  didn't ;  and  that  if  his  (the  sergeant's)  own  father  were  to 
say  he  did,  he  would  run  the  old  gentleman  through  the  body 
cheerfully,  and  consider  it  a  meritorious  action. 

Joe  expressed  his  obligations,  and  continued,  "  You  can 
trust  me  then,  and  credit  what  I  say.  1  believe  I  shall  enlist 
into  your  regiment  to-night.  The  reason  I. don't  do  so  now  is 
because  I  don't  want  until  to-night,  to  do  what  I  can't  recall. 
Where  shall  I  find  you  this  evening  ?  " 

His  friend  replied  with  some  unwillingness,  and  after  much 
ineffectual  entreaty  having  for  its  object  the  immediate  settle- 
ment of  the  business,  that  his  quarters  would  be  at  the 
Crooked  Billet  in  Tower  Street ;  where  he  would  be  found 
waking  until  midnight,  and  sleeping  until  breakfast  time 
to-morrow. 

"  And  if  I  do  come  —  which  it's  a  million  to  one,  I  shall  — 
when  will  you  take  me  out  of  London  ?  "  demanded  Joe. 

"To-morrow  morning,  at  half  after  eight  o'clock,"  replied 
the  sergeant.  '•  You'll  go  abroad  —  a  country  where  it's  all 
sunshine  and  plunder — the  finest  climate  in  the  world." 

"  To  go  abroad,"  said  Joe,  shaking  hands  with  him,  "  is  the 
very  thing  I  want.     You  may  expect  me." 

"  You're  the  kind  of  lad  for  us,"  cried  the  sergeant,  holding 
Joe's  hand  in  his,  in  the  excess  of  his  admiration.  "  You're 
the  boy  to  push  your  fortune.  I  don't  say  it  because  I  bear 
you  any  envy,  or  would  take  away  from  the  credit  of  the  rise 
you'll  make,  but  if  I  had  been  bred  and  taught  like  you,  I'd 
have  been  a  colonel  by  this  time." 

"  Tush  man ! "  said  Joe,  "  I'm  not  so  young  as  that. 
Needs  must  when  the  devil  drives  ;  and  the  devil  that  drives 
me  is  an  empty  pocket  and  an  unhappy  home.  For  the 
present,  good-by." 

"  For  king  and  country  ! "  cried  the  sergeant,  flourishing 
his  cap. 

"  For  bread  and  meat ! "  cried  Joe,  snapping  his  fingers. 
And  so  they  parted. 

He  had  very  little  money  in  his  pocket ;  so  little  indeed. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  271 

that  after  paying  for  his  breakfast  (which  he  was  too  honest 
and  perhaps  too  proud  to  score  up  to  his  father's  charge)  he 
had  but  a  penny  left.  He  had  courage,  notwithstanding,  to 
resist  all  the  affectionate  importunities  of  the  sergeant,  who 
waylaid  him  at  the  door  with  many  protestations  of  eternal 
friendship,  and  did  in  particular  request  that  he  would  do  him 
the  favor  to  accept  of  only  one  shilling  as  a  temporary  accom- 
modation. Rejecting  his  offers  both  of  cash  and  credit,  Joe 
walked  away  with  stick  and  bundle  as  before,  bent  upon  get- 
ting through  the  day  as  he  best  could,  and  going  down  to  the 
locksmith's  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening ;  for  it  sliould  go  hard, 
he  had  resolved,  but  he  would  have  a  parting  word  with 
charming  Dolly  Varden. 

He  went  out  by  Islington  and  so  on  to  Highgate,  and  sat 
on  many  sl^^nes  and  gates,  but  there  were  no  voices  in  the 
bells  to  bid  him  turn.  Since  the  time  of  noble  Whittington, 
fair  flower  of  merchants,  bells  have  come  to  have  less  sympa- 
thy with  humankind.  They  only  ring  for  money  and  on  state 
occasions.  Wanderers  have  increased  in  number ;  ships  leave 
the  Thames  for  distant  regions,  carr3ang  from  stem  to  stern  no 
other  cargo ;  the  bells  are  silent ;  they  ring  out  no  entreaties 
or  regrets ;  they  are  used  to  it  and  have  grown  worldly. 

Joe  bought  a  roll,  and  reduced  his  purse  to  the  condition 
(with  a  difference)  of  tliat  celebrated  purse  of  Fortunatus, 
which,  whatever  were  its  favored  owner's  necessities,  had 
one  unvarying  amount  in  it.  In  these  real  times,  when  all 
the  Fairies  are  dead  and  buried,  there  are  still  a  great  many 
purses  which  possess  that  quality.  The  sum-total  they  con- 
tain is  expressed  in  arithmetic  by  a  circle,  and  whether  it  be 
added  to  or  multiplied  by  its  own  amount,  the  result  of  the 
problem  is  more  easily  stated  than  any  known  in  figures. 

Evening  drew  on  at  last.  With  the  desolate  and  solitary 
feeling  of  one  who  had  no  home  or  shelter,  and  was  alone 
utterly  in  the  world  for  the  first  time,  he  bent  his  steps 
towards  the  locksmith's  house.  He  had  delayed  till  now, 
knowing  that  Mrs.  Varden  sometimes  went  out  alone,  or  witli 
Miggs  for  her  sole  attenrlant,  to  lectures  in  the  evening ;  and 
devoutly  hoping  that  this  might  be  one  of  her  nights  of  moral 
culture. 


272  BARN  AST  BUDGE. 

He  had  walked  up  and  down  before  the  house,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  way,  two  or  three  times,  when  as  he  re- 
turned to  it  again,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  fluttering  skirt  at 
the  door.  It  was  Dolly's  —  to  whom  else  could  it  belong  ?  no 
dress  but  hers  had  such  a  flow  as  that.  He  plucked  up  his 
spirits,  and  followed  it  into  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key. 

His  darkening  the  door  caused  her  to  look  round.  Oh  that 
face  !  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that,"  thought  Joe,  "  I  should 
never  have  walked  into  poor  Tom  Cobb.  She's  twenty  times 
handsomer  than  ever.     She  might  marry  a  Lord  !  " 

He  didn't  say  this.  He  only  thought  it  —  perhaps  looked  it 
also.  Dolly  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  was  so  sorry  her  father 
and  mother  were  away  from  home.  Joe  begged  she  wouldn't 
mention  it  on  any  account. 

Dolly  hesitated  to  lead  the  way  into  the  parlor,  for  there 
it  was  nearly  dark  ;  at  the  same  time  she  hesitated  to  stand 
talking  in  the  workshop,  which  was  yet  light  and  open  to  the 
street.  They  had  got  by  some  means,  too,  before  the  little 
forge  ;  and  Joe  having  her  hand  in  his  (which  he  had  no 
right  to  have,  for  Dolly  only  gave  it  him  to  shake),  it  was  so 
like  standing  before  some  homely  altar  being  married,  that  it 
was  the  most  embarrassing  state  of  things  in  the  world. 

"  I  have  come,"  said  Joe,  "  to  say  good-by  —  to  say  good- 
by  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years ;  perhaps  forever. 
I  am  going  abroad." 

Now  this  was  exactly  what  he  should  not  have  said.  Here 
he  was,  talking  like  a  gentleman  at  large  who  was  free  to 
come  and  go  and  roam  about  the  world  at  his  pleasure,  when 
tiiat  gallant  coachmaker  had  vowed  but  the  night  before  that 
Miss  Varden  held  him  bound  in  adamantine  chains ;  and  had 
positively  stated  in  so  many  words  that  she  was  killing  him 
by  inches,  and  that  in  a  fortnight  more  or  thereabouts  he 
expected  to  make  a  decent  end  and  leave  the  business  to  his 
mother. 

Dolly  released  her  hand  and  said,  "  Indeed ! "  She  re- 
marked in  the  same  breath  that  it  was  a  fine  night,  and  in 
short,  betrayed  no  more  emotion  than  the  forge  itself. 

"I  couldn't  go,"  said  Joe,  "without  coming  to  see  you.  I 
hadn't  the  heart  to." 


BARXABT  BUDGE.  2T3 

Dolly  was  more  sorry  than  slie  could  tell,  that  he  should 
have  taken  so  much  trouble.  It  was  such  a  long  way,  and  he 
must  have  such  a  deal  to  do.  And  how  was  Mr.  Willet  —  that 
dear  old  gentleman  "  — 

"Is  this  all  you  say  I "  cried  Joe. 

All  I  Good  gracious,  what  did  the  man  expect !  She  was 
obliged  to  take  her  apron  in  her  hand  and  run  her  eyes  along 
the  hem  from  corner  to  corner,  to  keep  herself  from  laughing 
in  his  face;  —  not  because  his  gaze  confused  her  —  not  at  all. 

Joe  had  small  experience  in  love  affairs,  and  had  no  notion 
how  different  young  ladies  are  at  different  times ;  he  had  ex- 
pected to  take  Dolly  up  again  at  the  very  point  where  he  had 
left  her  after  that  delicious  evening  ride,  and  was  no  more 
prepared  for  such  an  alteration  than  to  see  the  sun  and  moon 
change  places.  He  had  buoyed  himself  up  all  day  with  an 
indistinct  idea  that  she  would  certainly  say,  "Don't  go,"  or 
"'  Don't  leave  us,"  or  "  Why  do  you  go  ?  "  or  "  Why  do  you 
leave  us  ?  "  or  would  give  him  some  little  encouragement  of 
that  sort;  he  had  even  entertained  the  possibility  of  her  burst- 
ing into  tears,  of  her  throwing  herself  into  his  arms,  of  her 
falling  down  in  a  fainting  fit  without  previous  word  or  sign  ; 
but  any  approach  to  such  a  line  of  conduct  as  this,  had  been 
so  far  from  his  thoughts  that  he  could  only  look  at  her  in 
silent  wonder. 

Dolly  in  the  mean  while  turned  to  the  corners  of  her  apron, 
and  measured  the  sides,  and  smoothed  out  the  wrinkles,  and 
was  as  silent  as  he.  At  last,  after  a  long  pause,  Joe  said 
good-by.  "  Good-by,"  —  said  Dolly  —  with  as  pleasant  a 
smile  as  if  he  were  going  into  the  next  street,  and  were  coming 
back  to  supper;  "good-by." 

"  Come,"  said  Joe,  putting  out  both  his  hands,  "  Dolly, 
dear  Dolly,  don't  let  us  part  like  this.  I  love  you  dearly  with 
all  my  heart  and  soul ;  with  as  much  truth  and  earnest- 
ness as  ever  man  loved  woman  in  this  world,  I  do  believe.  I 
am  a  poor  fellow,  as  you  know  —  poorer  now  than  ever,  for  I 
have  fled  from  home,  not  being  able  to  bear  it  any  longer, 
and  must  fight  my  own  way  without  help.  You  are  beautiful, 
admired,  are  loved  by  everybody,  are  well  off  and  happy ;  and 
may  you  ever  be  so !     Heaven  forbid  I  should  ever  make  you 

VOL.    I. 


274  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

otherwise ;  but  give  me  a  word  of  comfort.  Say  something 
kind  to  me.  I  have  no  right  to  expect  it  of  you,  I  know,  but 
I  ask  it  because  I  love  you,  and  shall  treasure  the  slightest 
word  from  you  all  through  my  life.  Dolly,  dearest,  have  you 
nothing  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

No.  Nothing.  Dolly  was  a  coquette  by  nature,  and  a 
spoiled  child.  She  had  no  notion  of  being  carried  by  storm  in 
this  way.  The  coachmaker  would  have  been  dissolved  in 
tears,  and  would  have  knelt  down,  and  called  himself  names, 
and  clasped  his  hands,  and  beat  his  breast,  and  tugged  wildly 
at  his  cravat,  and  done  all  kinds  of  poetry.  Joe  had  no 
business  to  be  going  abroad.  He  had  no  right  to  be  able  to 
do  it.     If  he  was  in  adamantine  chains,  he  couldn't. 

'^I  have  said  good-by,"  said  Dolly,  "twice.  Take  your 
arm  away  directly,  Mr.  Joseph,  or  I'll  call  Miggs." 

"  I'll  not  reproach  you,"  answered  Joe,  "  it's  my  fault,  no 
doubt.  I  have  thought  sometimes  that  you  didn't  quite 
despise  me,  but  I  was  a  fool  to  think  so.  Every  one  must, 
who  has  seen  the  life  I  have  led  —  you  most  of  all.  God  bless 
you ! " 

He  was  gone,  actually  gone.  Dolly  waited  a  little  while, 
thinking  he  would  return,  peeped  out  at  the  door,  looked  up 
the  street  and  down  as  well  as  the  increasing  darkness  would 
allow,  came  in  again,  waited  a  little  longer,  went  up-stairs 
humming  a  tune,  bolted  herself  in,  laid  her  head  down  on  her 
bed,  and  cried  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  And  yet  such 
natures  are  made  up  of  so  many  contradictions,  that  if  Joe 
Willet  had  come  back  that  night,  next  day,  next  week,  next 
month,  the  odds  are  a  hundred  to  one  she  would  have  treated 
him  in  the  very  same  manner,  and  have  wept  for  it  afterwards 
with  the  very  same  distress. 

She  had  no  sooner  left  the  workshop  than  there  cautiously 
peered  out  from  behind  the  chimney  of  the  forge,  a  face  which 
had  already  emerged  from  the  same  concealment  twice  or 
thrice,  unseen,  and  which,  after  satisfying  itself  that  it  was 
now  alone,  was  followed  by  a  leg,  a  shoulder,  and  so  on  by 
degrees,  until  the  form  of  Mr.  Tappertit  stood  confessed,  with 
a  brown  paper  cap  stuck  negligently  on  one  side  of  its  head, 
and  its  arms  very  much  akimbo. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  275 

"  Have  my  ears  deceived  me,"  said  the  'Prentice,  "  or  do  I 
dream !  am  I  to  thank  thee,  Fortun',  or  to  cus  thee  — 
which  ?  " 

He  gravely  descended  from  his  elevation,  took  down  his 
piece  of  looking-glass,  planted  it  against  the  wall  upon  the 
usual  bench,  twisted  his  head  round,  and  looked  closely  at 
his  legs. 

'•If  they're  a  dream,"  said  Sim,  'Het  sculptures  have  such 
wisions,  and  chisel  'em  out  when  they  wake.  This  is  reality. 
Sleep  has  no  such  limbs  as  them.  Tremble,  Willet,  and 
despair.     She's  mine  !     She's  mine  ! " 

With  these  triumphant  expressions,  he  seized  a  hammer 
and  dealt  a  heavy  blow  at  a  vise,  which  in  his  mind's  eye 
represented  the  sconce  or  head  of  Joseph  Willet.  That  done, 
he  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter  which  startled  Miss  IMiggs 
even  in  her  distant  kitchen,  and  dipping  his  head  into  a  bowl 
of  water,  had  recourse  to  a  jack-towel  inside  the  closet  door, 
which  served  the  double  purpose  of  smothering  his  feelings 
and  drying  his  face. 

Joe,  disconsolate  and  down-hearted,  but  full  of  courage  too, 
on  leaving  the  locksmith's  house  made  the  best  of  his  way  to 
the  Crooked  Billet,  and  there  inquired  for  his  friend  the 
sergeant,  who,  expecting  no  man  less,  received  him  with 
open  arms.  In  the  course  of  five  minutes  after  his  arrival  at 
that  liouse  of  entertainment,  he  was  enrolled  among  the 
gallant  defenders  of  his  native  land;  and  within  half  an 
hour  was  regaled  with  a  steaming  supper  of  boiled  tripe  and 
onions,  prepared,  as  his  friend  assured  him  more  than  once, 
at  the  express  command  of  his  most  sacred  ^lajesty  the  King. 
To  this  meal,  which  tasted  very  savory  after  his  long  fasting, 
he  did  ample  justice ;  and  when  he  had  followed  it  up,  or 
down,  with  a  variety  of  loyal  and  patriotic  toasts,  he  was 
conducted  to  a  straw  mattress  in  a  loft  over  the  stable,  and 
locked  in  there  for  the  night. 

The  next  morning,  he  found  that  the  obliging  care  of  liis 
martial  friend  had  decorated  his  hat  with  sundr}'  party- 
colored  streamers,  which  made  a  very  lively  appearance ; 
and  in  company  with  that  officer,  and  three  other  military 
gentlemen  newly  enrolled,  who  were  under  a  cloud  so  dense 


276  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

that  it  only  left  three  shoes,  a  boot,  and  a  coat  and  a  half 
visible  among  them,  repaired  to  the  river-side.  Here  they 
were  joined  by  a  corporal  and  four  more  heroes,  of  whom  two 
were  drunk  and  daring,  and  two  sober  and  penitent,  but  each 
of  whom,  like  Joe,  had  his  dusty  stick  and  bundle.  The 
party  embarked  in  a  passage-boat  bound  for  Gravesend, 
whence  they  were  to  proceed  on  foot  to  Chatham  ;  the  Avind 
was  in  their  favor,  and  they  soon  left  London  behind  them, 
a  mere  dark  mist  —  a  giant  phantom  in  the  air. 


BABNABY  BUDGE,  277 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Misfortunes,  saith  the  adage,  never  come  singly.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  troubles  are  exceedingly  gregarious  in 
their  nature,  and  flying  in  flocks,  are  apt  to  perch  capriciously  ; 
crowding  on  the  heads  of  some  poor  wights  until  there  is  not 
an  inch  of  room  left  on  their  unlucky  crowns,  and  taking  no 
more  notice  of  others  who  offer  as  good  resting-places  for  the 
soles  of  their  feet,  than  if  they  had  no  existence.  It  may 
have  happened  that  a  flight  of  troubles  brooding  over  London, 
and  looking  out  for  Joseph  Willet,  whom  they  couldn't  And, 
darted  down  hap-hazard  on  the  first  young  man  that  caught 
their  fancy,  and  settled  on  him  instead.  However  this  may 
be,  certain  it  is  that  on  the  very  day  of  Joe's  departure  they 
swarmed  about  the  ears  of  Edward  Chester,  and  did  so  buzz 
and  flap  their  wings,  and  persecute  him,  that  he  was  most 
profoundly  wretched. 

It  was  evening,  and  just  eight  o'clock,  when  he  and  his 
father,  having  wine  and  desert  set  before  them,  were  left  to 
themselves  for  the  first  time  that  day.  They  had  dined 
together,  but  a  third  person  had  been  present  during  the  meal, 
and  until  they  met  at  table  they  had  not  seen  each  other  since 
the  previous  night. 

Edward  was  reserved  and  silent,  Mr.  Chester  was  more  than 
usually  gay  ;  but  not  caring,  as  it  seemed,  to  open  a  conversa- 
tion with  one  whose  humor  was  so  different,  he  vented  the 
lightness  of  his  spirit  in  smiles  and  sparkling  looks,  and  made 
no  effort  to  awaken  his  attention.  So  they  remained  for  some 
time  :  the  father  lying  on  a  sofa  with  his  accustomed  air  of 
graceful  negligence ;  the  son  seated  opposite  to  him  with 
downcast  eyes,  busied,  it  was  plain,  with  painful  and  uneasy 
thoughts. 

"  My  dear  Edward,"  said  Mr.  Chester  at  length,  with  a 
most  engaging  laugh,  "do  not  extend  your  drowsy  influence 


278  BAENAIiY  EUDGE. 

to  the  decanter.  Suffer  that  to  circulate,  let  your  spirits  be 
never  so  stagnant." 

Edward  begged  his  pardon,  passed  it,  and  relapsed  into  his 
former  state. 

"  You  do  wrong  not  to  fill  your  glass,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
holding  up  his  own  before  the  light.  "  Wine  in  moderation 
—  not  in  excess,  for  that  makes  men  ugly  —  has  a  thousand 
pleasant  influences.  It  brightens  the  eye,  improves  the  voice, 
imparts  a  new  vivacity  to  one^s  thoughts  and  conversation  : 
3"0u  should  try  it,  Xed." 

"  Ah,  father  !  "  cried  his  son,  "  if  "  — 

"  My  good  fellow,"  interposed  the  parent  hastily,  as  he  set 
down  his  glass,  and  raised  his  eyebrows  with  a  startled  and 
horrified  expression,  "  for  heaven's  sake  don't  call  me  by  that 
obsolete  and  ancient  name.  Have  some  regard  for  delicacy. 
Am  I  gray,  or  wrinkled,  do  I  go  on  crutches,  have  I  lost  my 
teeth,  that  you  adopt  such  a  mode  of  address  ?  Good  God, 
how  very  coarse  ! " 

"  I  was  about  to  speak  to  you  from  my  heart,  sir,"  returned 
Edward,  "  in  the  confidence  which  should  subsist  between  us ; 
and  you  check  me  in  the  outset." 

"  Now  do,  Ned,  do  not,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  raising  his  delicate 
hand  imploringly,  "  talk  in  that  monstrous  manner.  About  to 
speak  from  your  heart.  Don't  you  know  that  the  heart  is  an 
ingenious  part  of  our  formation  —  the  centre  of  the  blood- 
vessels and  all  that  sort  of  thing  —  whi-ch  has  no  more  to  do 
with  what  you  say  or  think,  than  your  knees  have  ?  How  can 
you  be  so  very  vulgar  and  absurd  ?  These  anatomical  allu- 
sions should  be  left  to  gentlemen  of  the  medical  profession. 
They  are  really  not  agreeable  in  society.  You  quite  surprise 
me,  Ned." 

"  Well !  there  are  no  such  things  to  wound,  or  heal,  or 
have  regard  for.  I  know  your  creed,  sir,  and  will  say  no 
more,"  returned  his  son. 

"There  again,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  sipping  his  wine,  "you 
are  wrong.  I  distinctly  say  there  are  such  things.  We  know 
there  are.  The  hearts  of  animals  —  of  bullocks,  sheep,  and  so 
forth  —  are  cooked  and  devoured,  as  I  am  told,  by  the  lower 
classes  with  a  vast  deal  of  relish.     Men  are  sometimes  stabbed 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  279 

to  the  heart,  shot  to  the  heart ;  but  as  to  speaking  from  the 
heart,  or  to  the  heart,  or  being  warm-hearted,  or  cold-hearted, 
or  broken-hearted,  or  being  all  heart,  or  having  no  heart  — 
pah  !  these  things  are  nonsense,  Ned." 

"  Xo  doubt,  sir,"  returned  his  son,  seeing  that  he  paused  for 
him  to  speak.     "No  doubt." 

"  There's,  Haredale's  niece,  your  late  flame,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  as  a  careless  illustration  of  his  meaning.  "  No 
doubt  in  your  mind  she  was  all  heart  once.  Now  she  has 
none  at  all.     Yet  she  is  the  same  person,  Ned,  exactly." 

"  She  is  a  changed  person,  sir,"  cried  Edward,  reddening ; 
"and  changed  by  vile  means,  I  believe." 

"  You  have  had  a  cool  dismissal,  have  you  ?  "  said  his 
father.  "  Poor  Ned !  I  told  you  last  night  what  would 
happen.  — May  I  ask  you  for  the  nut-crackers  ?  " 

"She  has  been  tampered  with,  and  most  treacherously 
deceived,"  cried  Edward,  rising  from  his  seat.  "I  never 
will  believe  that  the  knowledge  of  my  real  position,  given  her 
by  myself,  has  worked  this  change.  I  know  she  is  beset 
and  tortured.  But  though  our  contract  is  at  an  end,  and 
broken  past  all  redemption  ;  though  I  charge  upon  her  want 
of  firmness  and  want  of  truth,  both  to  herself  and  me ;  I  do 
not  now,  and  never  will  believe,  that  any  sordid  motive, 
or  her  own  unbiassed  will,  has  led  her  to  this  course  — 
never !  " 

"  You  make  me  blush,"  returned  his  father  gayly,  "  for  the 
folly  of  your  nature  in  which  —  but  we  never  know  ourselves 
—  I  devoutly  hope  there  is  no  reflection  of  my  own.  With 
regard  to  the  young  lad}''  herself,  she  has  done  what  is  very 
natural  and  proper,  my  dear  fellow  ;  what  you  yourself  pro- 
posed, as  I  learn  from  Haredale  ;  and  what  I  predicted  —  with 
no  great  exercise  of  sagacity  — she  would  do.  She  supposed 
you  to  be  rich,  or  at  least  quite  rich  enough ;  and  found  you 
poor,  ^tarriage  is  a  civil  contract ;  people  marry  to  better 
their  worldly  condition  and  improve  appearances ;  it  is  an 
aifair  of  house  and  furniture,  of  liveries,  servants,  equipage, 
and  so  forth.  The  lady  being  poor  and  you  poor  also,  there 
is  an  end  of  the  matter.  You  cannot  enter  upon  these  con- 
siderations, and  have  no  manner  of  business  with   the  cere- 


280  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

mony.  I  drink  her  health  in  this  glass,  and  respect  and 
honor  her  for  her  extreme  good-sense.  It  is  a  lesson  to  you. 
rill  yours,  Ned." 

"It  is  a  lesson,"  returned  his  son,  ''by  which  I  hope  I 
may  never  profit,  and  if  years  and  their  experience  impress 
it  on  "  — 

"Don't  say  on  the  heart,"  interposed  his  father. 

"  On  men  whom  the  world  and  its  hypocrisy  have  spoiled," 
said  Edward  warmly  ;  "  Heaven  keep  me  from  its  knowledge." 

"Come,  sir,"  returned  his  father,  raising  himself  a  little 
on  the  sofa,  and  looking  straight  towards  him  ;  "  we  have 
had  enough  of  this.  Remember,  if  you  please,  your  interest, 
your  duty,  your  moral  obligations,  your  filial  affections,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing  which  it  is  so  very  delightful  and 
charming  to  reflect  upon  ;  or  you  will  repent  it." 

"I  shall  never  repent  the  preservation  of  my  self-respect, 
sir,"  said  Edward.  "Eorgive  me  if  I  say  that  I  will  not 
sacrifice  it  at  your  bidding,  and  that  I  will  not  pursue  the 
track  which  you  would  have  me  take,  and  to  which  the  secret 
share  you  have  had  in  this  late  separation  tends." 

His  father  rose  a  little  higher  still,  and  looking  at  him  as 
though  curious  to  know  if  he  were  quite  resolved  and  earnest, 
dropped  gently  down  again,  and  said  in  the  calmest  voice  — 
eating  his  nuts  meanwhile,  — 

"  Edward,  my  father  had  a  son,  who  being  a  fool  like  you, 
and,  like  you,  entertaining  low  and  disobedient  sentiments,  he 
disinherited  and  cursed  one  morning  after  breakfast.  The 
circumstance  occurs  to  me  with  a  singular  clearness  of  recol- 
lection this  evening.  I  remember  eating  mufiins  at  the  time, 
with  marmalade.  He  led  a  miserable  life  (the  son,  I  mean) 
and  died  early ;  it  was  a  happy  release  on  all  accounts ;  he 
degraded  the  family  very  much.  It  is  a  sad  circumstance, 
Edward,  when  a  father  finds  it  necessary  to  resort  to  such 
strong  measures." 

"  It  is,"  replied  Edward,  "  and  it  is  sad  when  a  son, 
proffering  him  his  love  and  duty  in  their  best  and  truest 
sense,  finds  himself  repelled  at  every  turn,  and  forced  to  dis- 
obey. Dear  father,''  he  added,  more  earnestly  though  in  a 
gentler  tone,  "  I  have  reflected  many  times  on  what   occurred 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  281 

between  us  when  we  first  discussed  this  subject.  Let  there 
be  a  confidence  between  us ;  not  in  terms,  but  truth.  Hear 
what  I  have  to  say." 

"  As  I  anticipate  what  it  is,  and  cannot  fail  to  do  so, 
Edward,"  returned  his  father  coldly,  '•'  I  decline.  I  couldn't 
possibly.  I  am  sure  it  would  put  me  out  of  temper,  which  is 
a  state  of  mind  I  can't  endure.  If  you  intend  to  mar  my 
plans  for  your  establishment  in  life,  and  the  preservation  of 
that  gentility  and  becoming  pride  which  our  family  have  so 
long  sustained — if,  in  short,  you  are  resolved  to  take  your 
own  course,  3^ou  must  take  it,  and  my  curse  with  it.  I  am 
very  sorry,  but  there's  really  no  alternative." 

"The  curse  may  pass  your  lips,"  said  Edward,  "but  it  will 
be  but  empty  breath.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  man  on 
earth  has  greater  power  to  call  one  down  upon  his  fellow  — 
least  of  all,  upon  his  own  child  —  than  he  has  to  make  one 
drop  of  rain  or  flake  of  snow  fall  from  the  clouds  above  us  at 
his  impious  bidding.     Beware,  sir,  what  you  do." 

"You  are  so  very  irreligious,  so  exceedingly  undutiful,  so 
horribly  profane,"  rejoined  his  father,  turning  his  face  lazily 
towards  him,  and  cracking  another  nut,  "that  I  positively 
must  interrupt  you  here.  It  is  quite  impossible  we  can  con- 
tinue to  go  on,  upon  such  terms  as  these.  If  j^ou  will  do 
me  the  favor  to  ring  the  bell,  the  servant  will  show  you  to 
the  door.  Return  to  this  roof  no  more,  I  beg  you.  Go,  sir, 
since  you  have  no  moral  sense  remaining ;  and  go  to  the 
Devil,  at  my  express  desire.     Good-day." 

Edward  left  the  room  without  another  word  or  look,  and 
turned  his  back  upon  the  house  forever. 

The  father's  face  was  slightly  flushed  and  heated,  but  his 
manner  was  quite  unchanged,  as  he  rang  the  bell  again,  and 
addressed  his  servant  on  his  entrance. 

"  Peak  —  if  that  gentleman  who  has  just  gone  out  "  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  ]\Ir.  Edward  ?  " 

"  Were  there  more  than  one,  dolt,  that  you  ask  the  ques- 
tion ?  —  If  that  gentleman  should  send  here  for  his  wardrobe, 
let  him  have  it,  do  you  hear?  If  he  should  call  himself  at 
any  time,  I'm  not  at  home.  You'll  tell  him  so,  and  shut 
the  door." 


282  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

So,  it  soon  got  whispered  about,  that  ]\Ir.  Chester  was  very 
unfortunate  in  his  son,  who  had  occasioned  him  great  grief 
and  sorrow.  And  the  good  people  who  heard  this  and  told  it 
again,  marvelled  the  more  at  his  equanimity  and  even  temper, 
and  said  what  an  amiable  nature  that  man  must  have,  who, 
having  undergone  so  much,  could  be  so  placid  and  so  calm. 
And  when  Edward's  name  was  spoken,  Society  shook  its  head 
and  laid  its  finger  on  its  lip,  and  sighed,  and  looked  very 
grave ;  and  those  who  had  sons  about  his  age,  waxed  wrathful 
and  indignant,  and  hoped,  for  Virtue's  sake,  that  he  was  dead. 
And  the  world  went  on  turning  round,  as  usual,  for  five  years, 
concerninsr  which  this  Narrative  is  silent. 


BARNABY  BUDGE. 


283 


TER   XXXITI. 


jb  o 


XE  wintry  evening,  early  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty,  a  keen  north  wind  arose 
as  it  grew  dark,  and  night  came  on  with  black  and  dismal 
looks.  A  bitter  storm  of  sleet,  sharp,  dense,  and  icy-cold, 
swept  the  wet  streets,  and  rattled  on  the  trembling  windows. 
Sign-boards,  shaken  past  endurance  in  their  creaking  frames, 
fell  crashing  on  the  pavement ;  old  tottering  chimneys  reeled 
and  staggered  in  the  blast :  and  many  a  steeple  rocked  again 
that  night,  as  though  the  earth  were  troubled. 

It  was  not  a  time  for  those  who  could  by  any  means  get 
light  and  warmth,  to  brave  the  fury  of  the  weather.  In  coffee- 
houses of  the  better  sort,  guests  crowded  round  the  fire,  forgot 
to  be  political,  and  told  each  other  with  a  secret  gladness  that 
the  blast  grew  fiercer  every  minute.  Each  humble  tavern  by 
the  water-side  had  its  group  of  uncouth  figures  round  the 
hearth ;  who  talked  of  vessels  foundering  at  sea,  and  all 
hands  lost,  related  many  a  dismal  tale,  of  shipwreck  and 
drowned  men,  and  hoped  that  some  they  knew  were  safe,  and 
shook  their  heads  in  doubt.  In  private  dwellings,  children 
clustered  near  the  blaze ;  listening  with  timid  pleasure  to 
tales  of  ghosts  and  goblins  and  tall  figures  clad  in  white 
standing  by  bedsides,  and  people  who  had  gone  to  sleep  in 
old  churches  and  being  overlooked  had  found  themselves 
alone,  there  at  the  dead  hour  of  the  night ;  until  they 
shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the  dark  rooms  up-stairs,  yet 
loved  to  hear  the  wind  moan  too,  and  hoped  it  would  continue 
bravely.  From  time  to  time  these  hai)py  in-door  people 
stopped  to  listen,  or  one  held  up  his  finger  and  cried  "Hark  I" 
and  then,  above  the  rumbling  in  the  chimney,  and  the  fast 
pattering  on  the  glass,  was  heard  a  wailing,  rushing  sound, 
which  shook  the  walls  as  tliougli  a  giant's  hand  were  on 
them;  then  a  hoarse  roar  as  if  the  sea  had   risen;  then  such 


284  BAUNABY  BUDGE. 

a  whirl  and  tumult  that  the  air  seemed  mad  ;  and  then,  with 
a  lengthened  howl,  the  waves  of  wind  swept  on,  and  left  a 
moment's  interval  of  rest. 

Cheerily,  though  there  were  none  abroad  to  see  it,  shone 
the  Maypole  light  that  evening.  Blessings  on  the  red  —  deep 
ruby,  glowing  red  —  old  curtain  of  the  window ;  blending  into 
one  rich  stream  of  brightness,  fire  and  candle,  meat,  drink, 
and  company,  and  gleaming  like  a  jovial  eye  upon  the  bleak 
waste  out  of  doors  !  Within,  what  carpet  like  its  crunching 
sand,  what  music  merry  as  its  crackling  logs,  what  perfume 
like  its  kitchen's  dainty  breath,  what  weather  genial  as  its 
hearty  warmth !  Blessings  on  the  old  house,  how  sturdily  it 
stood  !  How  did  the  vexed  wind  chafe  and  roar  about  its 
stalwart  roof ;  how  did  it  pant  and  strive  with  its  wide 
chimneys,  which  still  poured  forth  from  their  hospitable 
throats,  great  clouds  of  smoke,  and  puffed  defiance  in  its  face, 
how,  above  all,  did  it  drive  and  rattle  at  the  casement,  emulous 
to  extinguish  that  cheerful  glow,  which  would  not  be  put  down 
and  seemed  the  brighter  for  the  confl.ict. 

The  profusion  too,  the  rich  and  lavish  bounty,  of  that 
goodly  tavern !  It  was  not  enough  that  one  fire  roared  and 
sparkled  on  its  spacious  hearth  ;  in  the  tiles  which  paved  and 
compassed  it,  five  hundred  flickering  fires  burnt  brightly  also. 
It  was  not  enough  that  one  red  curtain  shut  the  wild  night 
out,  and  shed  its  cheerful  influence  on  the  room.  In  every 
saucepan  lid,  and  candlestick,  and  vessel  of  copper,  brass,  or 
tin  that  hung  upon  the  walls,  were  countless  ruddy  hangings, 
flashing  and  gleaming  with  every  motion  of  the  blaze,  and 
offering,  let  the  eye  wander  where  it  might,  interminable 
vistas  of  the  same  rich  color.  The  old  oak  wainscoting,  the 
beams,  the  chairs,  the  seats,  reflected  it  in  a  deep  dull 
glimmer.  There  were  fires  and  red  curtains  in  the  very  eyes 
of  the  drinkers,  in  their  buttons,  in  their  liquor,  in  the  pipes 
they  smoked. 

Mr.  Willet  sat  in  what  had  been  his  accustomed  place  five 
years  before,  with  his  eyes  on  the  eternal  boiler  ;  and  had  sat 
there  since  the  clock  struck  eight,  giving  no  other  signs  of  life 
than  breathing  with  a  loud  and  constant  snore  (though  he  was 
wide  awake),  and  from  time  to  time  putting  his  glass  to  his 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  285 

lips,  or  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and  filling  it  anew. 
It  was  now  half-past  ten.  Mr.  Cobb  and  long  Phil  Parkes 
were  his  companions,  as  of  old,  and  for  two  mortal  hours  and 
a  half,  none  of  the  company  had  pronounced  one  word. 

Whether  people,  by  dint  of  sitting  together  in  the  same 
place  and  the  same  relative  positions,  and  doing  exactly  the 
same  things  for  a  great  many  years,  acquire  a  sixth  sense,  or 
some  unknown  power  of  influencing  each  other  which  serves 
them  in  its  stead,  is  a  question  for  philosophy  to  settle.  But 
certain  it  is  that  old  John  AVillet,  Mr.  Parkes,  and  Mr.  Cobb, 
were  one  and  all  firmly  of  opinion  that  they  were  very  jolly 
companions  —  rather  choice  spirits  than  otherwise  ;  that  they 
looked  at  each  other  every  now  and  then  as  if  there  were  a 
perpetual  interchange  of  ideas  going  on  among  them ;  that  no 
man  considered  himself  or  his  neighbor  by  any  means  silent ; 
and  that  each  of  them  nodded  occasionally  when  he  caught 
the  eye  of  another,  as  if  he  would  say,  "  You  have  expressed 
yourself  extremely  well,  sir,  in  relation  to  that  sentiment,  and 
I  quite  agree  with  you." 

The  room  was  so  very  warm,  the  tobacco  so  very  good,  and 
the  fire  so  very  soothing,  that  Mr.  Willet  by  degrees  began  to 
doze ;  but  as  he  had  perfectly  acquired,  by  dint  of  long  habit, 
the  art  of  smoking  in  his  sleep,  and  as  his  breathing  was 
pretty  much  the  same,  awake  or  asleep,  saving  that  in  the 
latter  case  he  sometimes  experienced  a  slight  difficulty  in 
respiration  (such  as  a  carpenter  meets  with  when  he  is  planing 
and  comes  to  a  knot),  neither  of  his  companions  was  aware  of 
the  circumstance,  until  he  met  with  one  of  these  impediments 
and  was  obliged  to  try  again. 

"  Johnny's  dropped  off,"  said  Mr.  Parkes  in  a  whisper. 

"  Fast  as  a  top,"  said  Mr.  Cobb. 

Neither  of  them  said  any  more  until  ^fr.  Willet  came  to 
another  knot  —  one  of  surpassing  obduracy  —  which  bade  fair 
to  throw  him  into  convulsions,  but  wliich  he  got  over  at  last 
without  waking,  by  an  effort  quite  superhuman. 

"He  sleeps  uncommon  hard,"  said  Mr.  Cobb. 

Mr.  Parkes,  who  was  possibly  a  hard  sleeper  himself, 
replied  Avith  some  disdain  ''Not  a  bit  on  it;"  and  directed 
his  eyes  towards  a  handbill  pasted  over  the  chimney-piece, 


286  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

which  was  decorated  at  the  top  with  a  woodcut  representing 
a  youth  of  tender  years  running  away  very  fast,  with  a  bundle 
over  his  shoukler  at  the  end  of  a  stick,  and  —  to  carry  out  the 
idea  —  a  finger-post  and  a  mile-stone  beside  him.  Mr.  Cobb 
likewise  turned  his  eyes  in  the  same  direction  and  surveyed 
the  placard  as  if  that  were  the  first  time  he  had  ever  beheld 
it.  Now,  tliis  was  a  document  which  Mr.  Willet  had  himself 
indited  on  the  disappearance  of  his  son  Joseph,  acquainting 
the  nobility  and  gentry  and  the  public  in  general  with  the 
circumstances  of  his  having  left  his  home  ;  describing  his 
dress  and  appearance ;  and  offering  a  reward  of  five  pounds 
to  any  person  or  persons  who  would  pack  him  up  and  return 
him  safely  to  the  Maypole  at  Chigwell,  or  lodge  him  in  any  of 
his  Majesty's  jails  until  such  time  as  his  father  should  come 
and  claim  him.  In  this  advertisement  Mr.  Willet  had 
obstinately  persisted,  despite  the  advice  and  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  in  describing  his  son  as  a  "young  boy ; "  and  further- 
more as  being  from  eighteen  inches  to  a  couple  of  feet  shorter 
than  he  really  was ;  two  circumstances  which  perhaps  ac- 
counted, in  some  degree,  for  its  never  having  been  productive 
of  any  other  effect  than  the  transmission  to  Chigwell  at 
various  times  and  at  a  vast  expense,  of  some  five  and  forty 
runaways  varying  from  six  years  old  to  twelve. 

Mr.  Cobb  and  Mr.  Parkes  looked  mysteriously  at  this  com- 
position, at  each  other,  and  at  old  John.  From  the  time 
he  had  pasted  it  up  with  his  own  hands,  Mr.  Willet  had  never 
by  word  or  sign  alluded  to  the  subject,  or  encouraged  any  one 
else  to  do  so.  Nobody  had  the  least  notion  what  his  thoughts 
or  opinions  were,  connected  with  it ;  whether  he  remembered 
it  or  forgot  it ;  whether  he  had  any  idea  that  such  an  event 
had  ever  taken  place.  Therefore,  even  while  he  slept,  no  one 
ventured  to  refer  to  it  in  his  presence  ;  and  for  such  sufficient 
reasons,  these  his  chosen  friends  were  silent  now. 

Mr.  Willet  had  got  by  this  time  into  such  a  complication  of 
knots,  that  it  was  perfectly  clear  he  must  wake  or  die.  He 
chose  the  former  alternative,  and  opened  his  eyes. 

"  If  he  don't  come  in  five  minutes,"  said  John,  "  1  shall 
have  supper  without  him." 

The  antecedent  of  this  pronoun  had  been  mentioned  for  the 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  287 

last  time  at  eight  o'clock.  Messrs.  Parkes  and  Cobb  being 
used  to  this  style  of  conversation,  replied  without  diiftculty 
that  to  be  sure  Solomon  was  very  late,  and  they  wondered 
what  had  happened  to  detain  him. 

"He  ain't  blown  away,  I  suppose,"  said  Parkes.  "It's 
enough  to  carry  a  man  of  his  figure  off  his  legs,  and  easy  too. 
Do  you  hear  it  ?  It  blows  great  guns,  indeed.  There'll  be 
many  a  crash  in  the  Forest  to-night,  I  reckon,  and  many  a 
broken  branch  upon  the  ground  to-morrow." 

"  It  won't  break  anything  in  the  Mapole,  I  take  it,  sir," 
returned  old  John.  "Let  it  try.  I  give  it  leave  —  what's 
that  ?  " 

"  The  wind,"  cried  Parkes.  "It's  howling  like  a  Christian, 
and  has  been  all  night  long." 

"  Did  you  ever,  sir,"  asked  John,  after  a  minute's  contem- 
plation, "  hear  the  wind  say  '  Maypole  ?  '  " 

"  Why,  what  man  ever  did  ?  "  said  Parkes. 

"Nor  '  ahoy,'  perhaps  ?  "  added  John. 

"  Ko.     Nor  that  neither." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  ^Ir.  Willet,  perfectly  unmoved; 
"  then  if  that  was  the  wind  just  now,  and  you'll  wait  a  little 
time  without  speaking,  you'll  hear  it  say  both  words  very 
plain." 

Mr.  Willet  was  right  After  listening  for  a  few  moments, 
they  could  clearly  hear,  above  the  roar  and  tumult  out  of 
doors,  this  shout  repeated;  and  that  with  a  shrillness  and 
energy,  which  denoted  that  it  came  from  some  person  in 
great  distress  or  terror.  They  looked  at  each  other,  turned 
pale,  and  held  their  breath.     No  man  stirred. 

It  was  in  this  emergency  that  Mr.  Willet  displayed  some- 
thing of  that  strength  of  mind  and  plenitude  of  mental 
resource,  which  rendered  him  the  admiration  of  all  his  friends 
and  neighbors.  After  looking  at  ^Messrs.  Parkes  and  Cobb 
for  some  time  in  silence,  he  cla})ped  his  two  hands  to  his 
cheeks,  and  sent  forth  a  roar  which  made  the  glasses  dance 
and  rafters  ring  —  a  long-sustained,  discordant  bellow,  that 
rolled  onward  with  the  wind,  and  startling  every  echo,  made 
the  night  a  hundred  times  more  boisterous  —  a  deep,  loud, 
dismal  bray,  that  sounded  like  a  human   gong.     Then,  with 


288  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

ever}'  vein  in  his  head  and  face  swollen  with  the  great  exer- 
tion, and  his  countenance  suffused  with  a^  lively  purple,  he 
drew  a  little  nearer  to  the  fire,  and  turning  his  back  upon  it, 
said  with  dignity,  — 

"  If  that's  any  comfort  to  anybody,  they're  welcome  to  it. 
If  it  ain't,  I'm  sorry  for  'em.  If  either  of  you  two  gentlemen 
likes  to  go  out  and  see  what's  the  matter,  you  can.  I'm  not 
curious,  myself." 

While  he  spoke  the  cry  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  footsteps 
passed  the  window,  the  latch  of  the  door  was  raised,  it  opened, 
was  violently  shut  again,  and  Solomon  Daisy,  with  a  lighted 
lantern  in  his  hand,  and  the  rain  streaming  from  his  dis- 
ordered dress,  dashed  into  the  room. 

A  more  complete  picture  of  terror  than  the  little  man  pre- 
sented, it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine.  The  persj^iration 
stood  in  beads  upon  his  face,  his  knees  knocked  together,  his 
every  limb  trembled,  the  power  of  articulation  was  quite 
gone ;  and  there  he  stood,  panting  for  breath,  gazing  on  them 
with  such  livid  ashy  looks,  that  they  were  infected  with  his 
fear,  though  ignorant  of  its  occasion,  and,  reflecting  his  dis- 
mayed and  horror-stricken  visage,  stared  back  again  without 
venturing  to  question  him  ;  until  old  John  Willet,  in  a  fit  of 
temporar}"  insanity,  made  a  dive  at  his  cravat,  and,  seizing 
him  by  that  portion  of  his  dress,  shook  him  to  and  fro  until 
his  very  teeth  appeared  to  rattle  in  his  head. 

"Tell  us  what's  the  matter,  sir,"  said  John,  "or  I'll  kill 
you.  Tell  us  what's  the  matter,  sir,  or  in  another  second, 
I'll  have  your  head  under  the  biler.  How  dare  you  look 
like  that  ?  Is  anybody  a-following  of  you  ?  What  do  you 
mean  ?     Say  something,  or  I'll  be  the  death"  of  you,  I  will." 

Mr.  Willet,  in  his  frenz}^,  was  so  near  keeping  his  word  to 
the  very  letter  (Solomon  Daisy's  eyes  already  beginning  to 
roll  in  an  alarming  manner,  and  certain  guttural  sounds,  as 
of  a  choking  man,  to  issue  from  his  throat),  that  the  two  by- 
standers, recovering  in  some  degree,  plucked  him  off  his 
victim  by  main  force,  and  placed  the  little  clerk  of  Chigwell 
in  a  chair.  Directing  a  fearful  gaze  all  round  the  room,  he 
implored  them  in  a  faint  voice  to  give  him  some  drink ;  and 
above  all  to  lock  the  house  door  and  close  and  bar  the  shutters 


•y^Ji^L^  jf^-^^^ 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  289 

of  the  room,  without  a  moment's  loss  of  time.  The  latter 
request  did  not  tend  to  reassure  his  hearers,  or  to  fill  them 
with  the  most  comfortable  sensations  ;  they  complied  with 
it,  however,  with  the  greatest  expedition  ;  and  having  handed 
him  a  bumper  of  brandy  and  water,  nearly  boiling  hot,  waited 
to  hear  what  he  might  have  to  tell  them. 

"  Oh,  Johnny,"  said  Solomon,  shaking  him  by  the  hand. 
''  Oh,  Parkes.  Oh,  Tommy  Cobb.  Why  did  I  leave  this 
house  to-night !  On  the  nineteenth  of  March  —  of  all  nights 
in  the  year,  on  the  nineteenth  of  March  ! " 

They  all  drew  closer  to  the  fire.  Parkes,  who  was  nearest 
to  the  door,  started  and  looked  over  his  shoulder.  Mr. 
Willet,  with  great  indignation,  inquired  what  the  devil  he 
meant  by  that  —  and  then  said,  '•  God  forgive  me,"'  and 
glanced  over  his  own  shoulder,  and  came  a  little  nearer. 

"  When  I  left  here  to-night,"  said  Solomon  Daisy,  "  I  little 
thought  what  day  of  the  month  it  was.  I  have  never  gone 
alone  into  the  church  after  dark  on  this  day,  for  seven  and 
twenty  years.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  as  we  keep  our 
birthdays  when  we  are  alive,  so  the  ghosts  of  dead  people, 
who  are  not  easy  in  their  graves,  keep  the  day  they  died 
upon.  —  How  the  wind  roars  !  " 

Nobody  spoke.     All  eyes  were  fastened  on  Solomon. 

"  I  might  have  known,"  he  said,  "  what  night  it  was,  by 
the  foul  weather.  There's  no  such  night  in  the  whole  year 
round  as  this  is,  always.  I  never  sleep  quietly  in  my  bed  on 
the  nineteenth  of  March." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Tom  Cobb,  in  a  low  voice.     "  Nor  I  neither.'' 

Solomon  Daisy  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  ;  put  it  down 
upon  the  floor  with  such  a  trembling  hand  that  the  spoon 
tinkled  in  it  like  a  little  bell ;  and  continued  thus,  — 

"  Have  I  ever  said  that  we  are  always  brouglit  back  to 
tliis  subject  in  some  strange  way,  when  the  nineteenth  of  this 
montli  comes  round  ?  Do  you  suppose  it  was  by  accident,  I 
forgot  to  wind  up  the  church-clock  ?  I  never  forgot  it  at  any 
other  time,  though  it's  such  a  clumsy  thing  that  it  lias  to  be 
wound  u})  every  day.  Why  should  it  escape  my  memory  on 
this  day  of  all  others  ? 

"  I  made  as  much  haste  down  tliere  as  I  couhl  wlien  I  went 

VOL.  I. 


290  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

from  here,  but  I  had  to  go  home  first  for  the  keys  ;  and  the 
wind  and  rain  being  dead  against  me  all  the  way,  it  was 
pretty  well  as  much  as  I  could  do  at  times  to  keep  my  legs. 
I  got  there  at  last,  opened  the  church  door,  and  went  in.  I 
had  not  met  a  soul  all  the  way,  and  you  may  judge  whether 
it  was  dull  or  not.  Neither  of  you  would  bear  me  company. 
If  you  could  have  known  what  was  to  come,  you'd  have  been 
in  the  right. 

"The  wind  was  so  strong,  that  it  was  as  much  as  I  could 
do  to  shut  the  church  door  by  putting  my  whole  weight 
against  it ;  and  even  as  it  was,  it  burst  wide  open  twice,  with 
such  strength  that  any  of  you  would  have  sworn,  if  you  had 
been  leaning  against  it,  as  I  was,  that  somebody  was  pushing 
on  the  other  side.  However,  I  got  the  key  turned,  went 
into  the  belfry,  and  wound  up  the  clock  —  which  was  very 
near  run  down,  and  would  have  stood  stock-still  in  half  an 
hour. 

"  As  I  took  up  my  lantern  again  to  leave  the  church,  it 
came  upon  me  all  at  once  that  this  was  the  nineteenth  of 
March.  It  came  upon  me  with  a  kind  of  shock,  as  if  a  hand 
had  struck  the  thought  upon  my  forehead ;  at  the  very  same 
moment,  I  heard  a  voice  outside  the  tower  —  rising  from 
among  the  graves." 

Here  old  John  precipitately  interrupted  the  speaker,  and- 
begged  that  if  Mr.  Parkes  (who  was  seated  opposite  to  him 
and  was  staring  directly  over  his  head)  saw  anything,  he 
would  have  the  goodness  to  mention  it.  Mr.  Parkes  apologized 
and  remarked  that  he  was  only  listening  ;  to  which  Mr.  Willet 
angrily  retorted,  that  his  listening  with  that  kind  of  expression 
in  his  face  was  not  agreeable,  and  that  if  he  couldn't  look  like 
other  people,  he  had  better  put  his  pocket-handkerchief  over 
his  head.  Mr.  Parkes  with  great  submission  pledged  himself 
to  do  so,  if  again  required,  and  John  Willet  turning  to 
Solomon  desired  him  to  proceed.  After  waiting  until  a 
violent  gust  of  wind  and  rain,  which  seemed  to  shake  even 
that  sturdy  house  to  its  foundation,  had  passed  away,  the 
little  man  complied. 

"Never  tell  me  that  it  was  my  fancy,  or  that  it  was  any 
other  sound  which  I  mistook  for  that  I  tell  you  of.     I  heard 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  291 

the  wind  whistle  through  the  arches  of  the  church.  I  heard 
the  steeple  strain  and  creak.  I  heard  the  rain  as  it  came 
driving  against  the  walls.  I  felt  the  bells  shake.  I  saw  the 
ropes  sway  to  and  fro.     And  I  heard  that  voice." 

"  What  did  it  say  ?  "  asked  Tom  Cobb. 

"  I  don't  know  what ;  I  don't  know  that  it  spoke.  It  gave 
a  kind  of  cry,  as  any  one  of  us  might  do,  if  something 
dreadful  followed  us  in  a  dream,  and  came  upon  us  unawares  ; 
and  then  it  died  off:  seeming  to  pass  quite  round  the 
church." 

"I  don't  see  much  in  that,"  said  John,  drawing  a  long 
breath,  and  looking  round  him  like  a  man  who  felt  relieved. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  returned  his  friend,  "  but  that's  not  all." 

"  What  more  do  you  mean  to  say,  sir,  is  to  come  ?  "  asked 
John,  pausing  in  the  act  of  wiping  his  face  upon  his  apron. 
"What  are  you  a-going  to  tell  us  of  next  ?  " 

"  What  I  saw." 

"  Saw  !  "  echoed  all  three,  bending  forward. 

"When  I  opened  the  church  door  to  come  out,"  said  the 
little  man,  with  an  expression  of  face  which  bore  ample 
testimony  to  the  sincerity  of  his  conviction,  "  when  I  opened 
the  church  door  to  come  out,  which  I  did  suddenly  for  I 
wanted  to  get  it  shut  again  before  another  gust  of  wind  came 
up,  there  crossed  me  —  so  close,  that  by  stretching  out  my 
finger  I  could  have  touched  it  —  something  in  the  likeness  of 
a  man.  It  was  bareheaded  to  the  storm.  It  turned  its  face 
without  stopping,  and  fixed  its  eyes  on  mine.  It  was  a  gliost 
—  a  spirit." 

"Whose  ?"  they  all  three  cried  together. 

In  the  excess  of  his  emotion  (for  he  fell  back  trembling  in 
his  chair,  and  waved  his  hand  as  if  entreating  them  to  ques- 
tion him  no  further),  his  answer  was  lost  on  all  but  old  Joliu 
Willet,  who  happened  to  be  seated  close  beside  him. 

"  Who !  "  cried  Parkes  and  Tom  Cobb,  looking  eagerly  by 
turns  at  Solomon  Daisy  and  at  Mr.  Willet.     "  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Willet  after  a  long  pause,  "you 
needn't  ask.  The  likeness  of  a  murdered  man.  This  is  the 
nineteenth  of  March." 

A  profound  silence  ensued. 


292  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"If  you'll  take  my  advice,"  said  John,  "we  had  better, 
one  and  all,  keep  this  a  secret.  Such  tales  would  not  be 
liked  at  the  Warren.  Let  us  keep  it  to  ourselves  for  the 
present  time  at  all  events,  or  we  may  get  into  trouble,  and 
Solomon  may  lose  his  place.  Whether  it  was  really  as  he 
says,  or  whether  it  wasn't,  is  no  matter.  Eight  or  wrong, 
nobody  would  believe  him.  As  to  the  probabilities,  I  don't 
myself  think,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  eying  the  corners  of  the 
room  in  a  manner  which  showed  that  like  some  other  philoso- 
phers he  was  not  quite  easy  in  his  theory,  "that  a  ghost 
as  had  been  a  man  of  sense  in  his  lifetime,  would  be  out 
a-walking  in  such  weather  —  I  only  know  that  /wouldn't,  if  I 
was  one." 

But  this  heretical  doctrine  was  strongly  opposed  by  the 
other  three,  who  quoted  a  great  many  precedents  to  show 
that  bad  weather  was  the  very  time  for  such  appearances ; 
and  ]Mr.  Parkes  (who  had  had  a  ghost  in  his  family,  by  the 
mother's  side)  argued  the  matter  with  so  much  ingenuity  and 
force  of  illustration,  that  John  was  only  saved  from  having  to 
retract  his  opinion  by  the  opportune  appearance  of  supper,  to 
which  they  applied  themselves  with  a  dreadful  relish.  Even 
Solomon  Daisy  himself,  by  dint  of  the  elevating  influences  of 
fire,  lights,  brandy,  and  good  company,  so  far  recovered  as  to 
handle  his  knife  and  fork  in  a  highly  creditable  manner,  and 
to  display  a  capacity  both  of  eating  and  drinking,  such  as 
banished  all  fear  of  his  having  sustained  any  lasting  injury 
from  his  fright. 

Supper  done,  they  crowded  round  the  fire  again,  and  as  is 
common  on  such  occasions,  propounded  all  manner  of  leading 
questions  calculated  to  surround  the  story  with  new  horrors 
and  surprises.  But  Solomon  Daisy,  notwithstanding  these 
temptations,  adhered  so  steadily  to  his  original  account,  and 
repeated  it  so  often,  with  such  slight  variations,  and  with 
such  solemn  asseverations  of  its  truth  and  reality,  that  his 
hearers  were  (with  good  reason)  more  astonished  than  at  first. 
As  he  took  John  Willet's  view  of  the  matter  in  regard  to  the 
propriety  of  not  bruiting  the  tale  abroad,  unless  the  spirit 
should  appear  to  him  again,  in  which  case  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  take  immediate  counsel  with  the  clergyman,  it  was 


BARyABY  BUDGE.  293 

solemnly  resolved  that  it  should  be  hushed  up  and  kept  quiet. 
And  as  most  men  like  to  have  a  secret  to  tell  which  may 
exalt  their  own  importance,  they  arrived  at  this  conclusion 
with  perfect  unanimity. 

As  it  was  by  this  time  growing  late,  and  was  long  past 
their  usual  hour  of  separating,  the  cronies  parted  for  the 
night.  Solomon  Daisy,  with  a  fresh  candle  in  his  lantern, 
repaired  homewards  under  the  escort  of  long  Phil  Parkes  and 
Mr.  Cobb,  who  were  rather  more  nervous  than  himself.  Mr. 
Willet,  after  seeing  them  to  the  door,  returned  to  collect  his 
thoughts  with  the  assistance  of  the  boiler,  and  to  listen  to 
the  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  which  had  not  yet  abated  one  jot 
of  its  fury. 


294  B  All  NAB  Y  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

Before  old  Jolm  had  looked  at  the  boiler  quite  twenty 
minutes,  he  got  his  ideas  into  a  focus,  and  brought  them  to 
bear  upon  Solomon  Daisy's  story.  The  more  he  thought  of 
it,  the  more  impressed  he  became  with  a  sense  of  his  own 
wisdom,  and  a  desire  that  Mr.  Haredale  should  be  impressed 
with  it  likewise.  At  length,  to  the  end  that  he  might  sustain 
a  principal  and  important  character  in  the  affair ;  and  might 
have  the  start  of  Solomon  and  his  two  friends,  through  whose 
means  he  knew  the  adventure,  with  a  variety  of  exaggerations, 
would  be  kftown  to  at  least  a  score  of  people,  and  most  likely 
to  Mr.  Haredale  himself,  by  breakfast-time  to-morrow ;  he 
determined  to  repair  to  the  Warren  before  going  to  bed. 

"  He's  my  landlord,"  thought  John,  as  he  took  a  candle  in 
his  hand,  and  setting  it  down  in  a  corner  out  of  the  wind's 
way,  opened  a  casement  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  looking 
towards  the  stables.  "AVe  haven't  met  of  late  years  so  often 
as  we  used  to  do  —  changes  are  taking  place  in  the  family  — 
it's  desirable  that  I  should  stand  as  well  with  them,  in  point 
of  dignity,  as  possible  —  the  whispering  about  of  this  here 
tale  will  anger  him  —  it's  good  to  have  confidences  with  a 
gentleman  of  his  natur',  and  set  one's  self  right  besides. 
Halloa,  there  !     Hugh  —  Hugh.     Hal-loa  !  " 

AVhen  he  had  repeated  this  shout  a  dozen  times,  and  startled 
every  pigeon  from  its  slumbers,  a  door  in  one  of  the  ruinous 
old  buildings  opened,  and  a  rough  voice  demanded  what  was 
amiss  now,  that  a  man  couldn't  even  have  his  sleep  in  quiet. 

"  What !  Haven't  you  sleep  enough,  growler,  that  you're 
not  to  be  knocked  up  for  once  ?  "  said  John. 

"]S"o,"  replied  the  voice,  as  the  speaker  yawned  and  shook 
himself.     '-  Not  half  enough." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  can  sleep,  with  the  wind  a-bellowsing 
and  roaring  about  you,  making  the  tiles  fly  like  a  pack  of 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  295 

cards,"  said  John  ;  "  but  no  matter  for  that.  Wrap  yourself 
up  in  something  or  another,  and  come  here,  for  you  must  go 
as  far  as  the  Warren  with  me.     And  look  sharp  about  it." 

Hugh,  with  much  low  growling  and  muttering,  went  back 
into  his  lair  ;  and  presently  reappeared,  carrying  a  lantern  and 
a  cudgel,  and  enveloped  from  head  to  foot  in  an  old,  frowsy, 
slouching  horse-cloth.  ^Ir.  Willet  received  this  figure  at  the 
back  door,  and  ushered  him  into  the  bar,  while  he  wrapped 
himself  in  sundry  great-coats  and  capes,  and  so  tied  and 
knotted  his  face  in  shawls  and  handkerchiefs,  that  how  he 
breathed  was  a  mystery. 

"'  You  don't  take  a  man  out  of  doors  at  near  midnight  in 
such  weather,  without  putting  some  heart  into  him,  do  you, 
master  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

"  Yes  I  do  sir,"  returned  ^Ir.  Willet.  "  I  put  the  heart 
(as  you  call  it)  into  him  when  he  has  brought  me  safe  home 
again,  and  his  standing  steady  on  his  legs  ain't  of  so  much 
consequence.  So  hold  that  light  up,  if  you  please,  and  go  on 
a  step  or  two  before  to  show  the  way." 

Hugh  obeyed  with  a  very  indifferent  grace,  and  a  longing 
glance  at  the  bottles.  Old  John,  laying  strict  injunctions  on 
his  cook  to  keep  the  doors  locked  in  his  absence,  and  to  open 
to  nobody  but  himself  on  pain  of  dismissal,  followed  him  into 
the  blustering  darkness  out  of  doors. 

The  way  was  wet  and  dismal,  and  the  night  so  black,  that 
if  Mr.  Willet  had  been  his  own  pilot,  he  would  have  walked 
into  a  deep  horsepond  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  his  own 
house,  and  would  certainly  have  terminated  his  career  in  that 
ignoble  sphere  of  action.  But  Hugh,  who  had  a  sight  as 
keen  as  any  hawk's,  and,  apart  from  that  endowment,  could 
liave  found  his  way  blindfold  to  any  place  within  a  dozen 
miles,  dragged  old  John  along,  quite  deaf  to  his  remon- 
strances, and  took  his  own  course  without  the  slightest  refer- 
ence to,  or  notice  of,  his  master.  So  they  made  head  against 
the  wind  as  they  best  could  ;  Hugh  crushing  the  wet  grass 
beneath  his  heavy  tread,  and  stalking  on  after  his  ordinary 
savage  fashion  ;  John  Willet  following  at  arni's  length,  pick- 
ing his  steps,  and  looking  about  iiini,  now  for  bogs  and 
ditches,  and  now  for  such  stray  ghosts  as  might  be  wandering 


296  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

abroad,  with  looks  of  as  much  dismay  and  uneasiness  as  his 
immovable  face  was  capable  of  expressing. 

At  length  they  stood  upon  tlie  broad  gravel-walk  before  the 
Warren-house.  The  building  was  profoundly  dark,  and  none 
were  moving  near  it  save  themselves.  From  one  solitary 
turret-chamber,  however,  there  shone  a  ray  of  light;  and 
towards  this  speck  of  comfort  in  the  cold,  cheerless  silent 
scene,  Mr.  Willet  bade  his  pilot  lead  him. 

"  The  old  room,"  said  John,  looking  timidly  upward  ;  "  Mr. 
Reuben's  own  apartment,  God  be  with  us !  I  wonder  his 
brother  likes  to  sit  there,  so  late  at  niglit  —  on  this  night 
too." 

"  Why,  where  else  should  he  sit  ?  "  asked  Hugh  holding  the 
lantern  to  his  breast,  to  keep  the  candle  from  the  wind,  while 
he  trimmed  it  with  his  fingers.     "  It's  snug  enough,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Snug  !  "  said  John  indignantly.  "  You  have  a  comfort- 
able idea  of  snugness,  you  have,  sir.  Do  you  know  what  was 
done  in  that  room,  you  ruffian  ?  " 

"  Why,  what  is  it  the  worse  for  that ! "  cried  Hugh,  looking 
into  John's  fat  face.  "Does  it  keep  out  the  rain,  and  snow, 
and  wind,  the  less  for  that  ?  Is  it  less  warm  or  dry,  because 
a  man  was  killed  there  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Never  believe  it, 
master.     One  man's  no  such  matter  as  that  comes  to." 

Mr.  Willet  fixed  his  dull  eyes  on  his  follower,  and  began  — 
by  a  species  of  inspiration  —  to  think  it  just  barely  possible 
that  he  was  something  of  a  dangerous  character,  and  that  it 
might  be  advisable  to  get  rid  of  him  one  of  these  days.  He 
was  too  prudent  to  say  anything,  with  the  journey  home 
before  him  ;  and  therefore  turned  to  the  iron  gate  before 
which  this  brief  dialogue  had  passed,  and  pulled  the  handle  of 
the  bell  that  hung  beside  it.  The  turret  in  which  the  light 
appeared  being  at  one  corner  of  the  building,  and  only  divided 
from  the  path  by  one  of  the  garden-walks,  upon  which  this 
gate  opened,  jVIr.  Haredale  threw  up  the  window  directly,  and 
demanded  who  was  there. 

"  Begging  pardon,  sir,"  said  John,  "  I  knew  you  sat  up 
late,  and  made  bold  to  come  round,  having  a  word  to  say  to 
you." 

"  Willet  —  is  it  not  ?  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  297 

"  Of  the  Maypole  —  at  your  service,  sir." 

Mr.  Haredale  closed  the  window,  and  withdrew.  He 
presently  appeared  at  a  door  in  the  bottom  of  the  turret,  and 
coming  across  the  garden-walk  unlocked  the  gate  and  let 
them  in. 

"  You  are  a  late  visitor,  Willet.     What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"Notliing  to  speak  of,  sir,"  said  John;  '-'an  idle  tale,  I 
thought  you  ought  to  know  of;  nothing  more." 

"  Let  your  man  go  forward  with  the  lantern,  and  give  me 
your  hand.  The  stairs  are  crooked  and  narrow.  Gently  with 
your  light,  friend.     You  swing  it  like  a  censer." 

Hugh,  who  had  already  reached  the  turret,  held  it  more 
steadily,  and  ascended  first,  turning  round  from  time  to  time 
to  shed  its  light  •  downward  on  the  steps.  ^Vt.  Haredale 
following  next,  eyed  his  lowering  face  with  no  great  favor ; 
and  Hugh,  looking  down  on  him,  returned  his  glances  with 
interest,  as  they  climbed  the  winding  stair. 

It  terminated  in  a  little  ante-room  adjoining  that  from 
which  they  had  seen  the  light.  ]Mr.  Haredale  entered  first, 
and  led  the  way  through  it  into  the  latter  chamber,  where  he 
seated  himself  at  a  writing-table  from  which  he  had  risen 
when  they  rang  the  bell. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said,  beckoning  to  old  John,  who  remained 
bowing  at  the  door.  "  Kot  you,  friend,"  he  added  hastily  to 
Hugh,  who  entered  also.  "Willet,  why  do  you  bring  that 
fellow  here  ?  " 

'•'  Why,  sir,"  returned  John,  elevating  his  eyebrows,  and 
lowering  his  voice  to  the  tone  in  whicli  the  (juestion  had  been 
asked  him,  "  he's  a  good  guard,  you  see." 

''Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  looking 
towards  him  as  he  spoke.     '•'  I  doubt  it.     He  has  an  evil  eye." 

"  There's  no  imagination  in  his  eye,"  returned  ^Ir.  Willet, 
glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  organ  in  question,  "cer- 
tainly." 

"  There  is  no  good  there,  be  assured,"  said  ^Sfr.  Haredale. 
"  Wait  in  that  little  room,  friend,  and  close  the  door  between 
us." 

Hugh  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  with  a  disdainful  look, 
which   showed,    either   that   he    had    overheard,    or   that    he 


298  BARNABY  BUDGE.. 

guessed  the  purport  of  their  whispering,  did  as  he  was  told. 
When  he  was  shut  out,  Mr.  Haredale  turned  to  John,  and 
bade  him  go  on  with  what  he  had  to  say,  but  not  to  speak  too 
loud,  for  there  were  quick  ears  yonder. 

Thus  cautioned,  Mr.  Willet,  in  an  oily  whisper,  recited  all 
that  he  had  heard  and  said  that  night ;  laying  particular 
stress  upon  his  own  sagacity,  upon  his  great  regard  for  the 
family,  and  upon  his  solicitude  for  their  peace  of  mind  and 
happiness.  The  story  moved  his  auditor  much  more  than  he 
had  expected.  Mr.  Haredale  often  changed  his  attitude,  rose 
and  paced  the  room,  returned  again,  desired  him  to  repeat,  as 
nearly  as  he  could,  the  very  words  that  Solomon  had  used, 
and  gave  so  many  other  signs  of  being  disturbed,  and  ill  at 
ease,  that  even  j\Ir.  Willet  was  surprised. 

"  You  did  quite  right,"  he  said,  at  the  end  of  a  long  con- 
versatiouj  "  to  bid  them  keep  this  story  secret.  It  is  a  foolish 
fancy  on  the  part  of  this  weak-brained  man,  bred  in  his  fears 
and  superstition.  But  jVtiss  Haredale,  though  she  would 
know  it  to  be  so,  would  be  disturbed  by  it  if  it  reached  her 
ears  ;  it  is  too  nearly  connected  with  a  subject  very  painful 
to  us  all,  to  be  heard  with  indifference.  You  were  most 
prudent,  and  have  laid  me  under  a  great  obligation.  I  thank 
you  very  much." 

This  was  equal  to  John's  most  sanguine  expectations;  but 
he  would  have  preferred  Mr.  Haredale's  looking  at  him  when 
he  spoke,  as  if  he  really  did  thank  him,  to  his  walking  up 
and  down,  speaking  by  fits  and  starts,  often  stopping  with  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  moving  hurriedly  on  again,  like  one 
distracted,  and  seeming  almost  unconscious  of  what  he  said 
or  did. 

This,  however,  was  his  manner ;  and  it  was  so  embarrass- 
ing to  John  that  he  sat  quite  passive  for  a  long  time,  not 
knowing  what  to  do.  At  length  he  rose.  Mr.  Haredale 
stared  at  him  for  a  moment  as  though  he  had  quite  forgotten 
his  being  present,  then  shook  hands  with  him  and  opened  the 
door.  Hugh,  who  was,  or  feigned  to  be,  fast  asleep  on  the 
ante-chamber  floor,  sprang  up  on  their  entrance,  and  throw- 
ing his  cloak  about  him,  grasped  his  stick  and  lantern,  and 
prepared  to  descend  the  stairs. 


'•i^K^i!®^ 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  299 

"Stay,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.     "  Will  this  man  drink  ?  " 

"Drink!  He'd  drink  the  Thames  up,  if  it  was  strong 
enough,  sir,"  replied  John  Willet.  "He'll  have  something 
when  he  gets  home.     He's  better  without  it,  now,  sir." 

"Nay.  Half  the  distance  is  done,"  said  Hugh.  "What 
a  hard  master  you  are  !  I  shall  go  home  the  better  for  one 
glassful,  half-way.     Come  !  " 

As  John  made  no  reply,  Mr.  Haredale  brought  out  a  glass 
of  liquor,  and  gave  it  to  Hugh,  who,  as  he  took  it  in  his  hand, 
threw  part  of  it  upon  the  floor. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  splashing  your  drink  about  a  gen- 
tleman's house,  sir  ?  "  said  John. 

"  I'm  drinking  a  toast,"  Hugh  rejoined,  holding  the  glass 
above  his  head,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  Mr.  Haredale's  face ; 
"  a  toast  to  this  house  and  its  master."  With  that  he  mut- 
tered something  to  himself,  and  drank  the  rest,  and  setting 
down  tlie  glass,  preceded  them  without  a  word. 

John  was  a  good  deal  scandalized  by  this  observance,  but 
seeing  that  Mr.  Haredale  took  little  heed  of  what  Hugh  said 
or  did,  and  that  his  thoughts  were  otherwise  employed,  he 
offered  no  apology,  and  went  in  silence  down  the  stairs, 
across  the  walk,  and  through  the  garden-gate.  They  stopped 
upon  the  outer  side  for  Hugh  to  hold  the  light  while  Mr. 
Haredale  locked  it  on  the  inner ;  and  then  John  saw  with 
wonder  (as  he  often  afterwards  related),  that  he  was  very 
pale,  and  that  his  face  had  changed  so  much  and  grown  so 
haggard  since  their  entrance,  that  he  almost  seemed  another 
man. 

They  were  in  the  open  road  again,  and  John  AVillet  was 
walking  on  behind  his  escort,  as  he  had  come,  thinking  very 
steadily  of  what  he  had  just  now  seen,  when  Hugh  drew  him 
suddenly  aside,  and  almost  at  the  same  instant  three  horse- 
men swept  past  —  the  nearest  brushed  his  shoulder  even  then 
—  wlio,  checking  their  steeds  as  suddenly  as  they  could,  stood 
still,  and  waited  for  their  coming  up. 


300  BARNABY  RUDGE. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

When  John  Willet  saw  that  the  horsemen  wheeled  smartly 
round,  and  drew  up  three  abreast  in  the  narrow  road,  waiting 
for  him  and  his  man  to  join  them,  it  occurred  to  him  with 
unusual  precipitation  that  they  must  be  highwaymen ;  and 
had  Hugh  been  armed  with  a  blunderbuss,  in  place  of  his 
stout  cudgel,  he  would  certainly  have  ordered  him  to  fire  it 
off  at  a  venture,  and  would,  while  the  word  of  command  was 
obeyed,  have  consulted  his  own  personal  safety  in  immediate 
flight.  Under  the  circumstances  of  disadvantage,  however, 
in  wliich  he  and  his  guard  were  placed,  he  deemed  it  prudent 
to  adopt  a  different  style  of  generalship,  and  therefore  whis- 
pered his  attendant  to  address  them  in  the  most  peaceable 
and  courteous  terms.  By  way  of  acting  up  to  the  spirit  and 
letter  of  this  instruction,  Hugh  stepped  forward,  and  flourish- 
ing his  staff  before  the  very  eyes  of  the  rider  nearest  to  him, 
demanded  roughly  what  he  and  his  fellows  meant  by  so 
nearly  galloping  over  them,  and  why  they  scoured  the  king's 
highway  at  that  late  hour  of  night. 

The  man  whom  he  addressed  was  beginning  an  angry  reply 
in  the  same  strain,  when  he  was  checked  by  the  horseman  in 
the  centre,  who,  interposing  with  an  air  of  authority,  inquired 
in  a  somewhat  loud  but  not  harsh  or  unpleasant  voice,  — 

"  Pray,  is  this  the  London  road  ?  " 

'^  If  you  follow  it  right,  it  is,"  replied  Hugh  roughly. 

"Nay,  brother,"  said  the  same  person,  "your're  but  a 
churlish  Englishman,  if  Englishman  you  be  —  which  T  should 
much  doubt  but  for  your  tongue.  Your  companion,  I  am  sure, 
will  answer  me  more  civilly.     How  say  you,  friend  ?  " 

"  I  say  it  is  the  London  road,  sir,"  answered  John.  "  And 
I  wish,"  he  added  in  a  subdued  voice,  as  he  turned  to  Hugh, 
"that  you  was  in  any  other  road,  you  vagabond.  Are  you 
tired  of  your  life,  sir,  that  you  go  a-trying  to  provoke  three 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  301 

great  neck-or-nothing  chaps,  that  could  keep  on  runniug  over 
us,  back'ards  and  for'ards,  till  we  was  dead,  and  then  take 
our  bodies  up  behind  'em,  and  drown  us  ten  miles  off  ?  " 

"How  far  is  it  to  London?''  inquired  the  same  speaker. 

"Why,  from  here,  sir,"  answered  John,  persuasively,  '"it's 
thirteen  very  easy  mile." 

The  adjective  was  thrown  in.  as  an  inducement  to  the  trav- 
ellers to  ride  away  with  all  speed ;  but  instead  of  having  the 
desired  effect,  it  elicited  from  the  same  person,  the  remark, 
'•  Thirteen  miles  !  That's  a  long  distance  !  "  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  short  pause  of  indecision. 

"Pray,"  said  the  gentleman,  "are  there  any  inns  here 
abouts  ?  " 

At  the  word  "  inns,"  John  plucked  up  his  spirit  in  a  sur- 
prising manner ;  his  fears  rolled  off  like  smoke  ;  all  the  land- 
lord stirred  within  him. 

'•There  are  no  inns,*'  rejoined  Mr.  Willet,  with  a  strong 
emphasis  on  the  plural  number;  '-but  there's  a  Inn  —  one 
Inn  —  the  Maypole  Inn.  That's  a  Inn  indeed.  You  won't 
see  the  like  of  that  Inn  often." 

"  You  keep  it,  perhaps  ?  "  said  the  horseman,  smiling. 

"  I  do,  sir,"  replied  John,  greatly  wondering  how  he  had 
found  this  out. 

"And  how  far  is  the  Maypole  from  here  ?  " 

"About  a  mile"  —  John  was  going  to  add  that  it  was  the 
easiest  mile  in  all  the  world,  when  the  third  rider,  who  had 
hitherto  kept  a  little  in  the  rear,  suddenly  interposed : 

"  And  have  you  one  excellent  bed,  landlord  ?  Hem  !  A 
bed  that  you  can  recommend  —  a  bed  that  you  are  sure  is 
well  aired  —  a  bed  that  has  been  slept  in  by  some  perfectly 
respectable  and  unexceptionable  person  !  " 

"  We  don't  take  in  no  tagrag  and  bobtail  at  our  house,  sir." 
answered  John.     "  And  as  to  the  bed  itself"  — 

"  Say,  as  to  three  beds,"  interposed  the  gentleman  wlio  had 
spoken  before;  "  for  we  shall  want  three  if  we  stay,  thougli 
my  friend  only  speaks  of  one." 

"No,  no,  my  lord;  you  are  too  good,  you  are  too  kind:  but 
your  life  is  of  faV  too  mucli  importanc*'  to  the  nation  in  these 
portentous  times,  to  be  placed  upon  a  level  with  one  so  useless 


302  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

and  so  poor  as  mine.  A  great  cause,  my  lord,  a  mighty  cause, 
depends  on  you.  You  are  its  leader  and  its  champion,  its 
advanced  guard  and  its  van.  It  is  the  cause  of  our  altars  and 
our  homes,  our  country  and  our  faith.  Let  me  sleep  on  a 
chair  —  the  carpet  —  anywhere.  No  one  will  repine  if  /  take 
cold  or  fever.  Let  John  Grueby  pass  the  night  beneath  the 
open  sky  —  no  one  will  repine  for  hi77i.  But  forty  thousand 
men  of  this  our  island  in  the  wave  (exclusive  of  women  and 
children)  rivet  their  eyes  and  thoughts  on  Lord  George 
Gordon ;  and  every  day,  from  the  rising  up  of  the  sun  to  the 
going  down  of  the  same,  pray  for  his  health  and  vigor.  My 
lord,"  said  the  speaker,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  "it  is  a  glorious 
cause,  and  must  not  be  forgotten.  IMy  lord,  it  is  a  mighty 
cause,  and  must  not  be  endangered.  My  lord,  it  is  a 
holy  cause,  and  must  not  be  deserted." 

"  It  is  a  holy  cause,"  exclaimed  his  lordship,  lifting  up  his 
hat  with  great  solemnity.     "  Amen  !  " 

"  John  Grueby,"  said  the  long-winded  gentleman,  in  a  tone 
of  mild  reproof,  "  his  lordship  said  Amen  ! " 

"  I  heard  my  lord,  sir,"  said  the  man,  sitting  like  a  statue 
on  his  horse. 

"  And  do  not  ijoii  say  Amen,  likewise  ?  " 

To  which  John  Grueby  made  no  reply  at  all,  but  sat  looking 
straight  before  him. 

"You  surprise  me,  Grueby,"  said  the  gentleman.  "At  a 
crisis  like  the  present,  when  Queen  Elizabeth,  that  maiden 
monarch,  weeps  within  her  tomb,  and  Bloody  Mary  with  a 
brow  of  gloom  and  shadow,  stalks  triumphant"  — 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  the  man,  gruffly,  "  where's  the  use  of  talk- 
ing of  Bloody  Mary,  under  such  circumstances  as  the  present, 
when  my  lord's  wet  through  and  tired  with  hard  riding  ? 
Let's  either  go  on  to  London,  sir,  or  put  up  at  once  ;  or  that 
unfort'nate  Bloody  Mary  will  have  more  to  answer  for  —  and 
she's  done  a  deal  more  harm  in  her  grave  than  she  ever  did 
in  her  lifetime,  I  believe." 

By  this  time  Mr.  Willet,  who  had  never  heard  so  many 
words  spoken  together  at  one  time,  or  delivered  with  such 
volubility  and  emphasis  as  by  the  long-winded  gentleman, 
and  whose  brain,  being  wholly  unable  to  sustain  or  compass 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  303 

them,  had  quite  given  itself  up  for  lost ;  recovered  so  far  as  to 
observe  that  there  was  ample  accommodation  at  the  Maypole 
for  all  the  party  :  good  beds ;  neat  wines  ;  excellent  enter- 
tainment for  man  and  beast ;  private  rooms  for  large  or  small 
parties ;  dinners  dressed  upon  the  shortest  notice  ;  choice 
stabling,  and  a  lock-up  coach-house :  and,  in  short,  to  run 
over  such  recommendatory  scraps  of  language  as  were  painted 
up  on  various  portions  of  the  building,  and  which,  in  the 
course  of  some  forty  years,  he  had  learned  to  repeat  with 
tolerable  correctness.  He  was  considering  whether  it  was  at 
all  possible  to  insert  any  novel  sentences  to  the  same  purpose, 
when  the  gentleman  who  had  spoken  first,  turning  to  him  of 
the  long  wind,  exclaimed,  "  What  say  you,  Gashford  ?  Shall 
we  tarry  at  this  house  he  speaks  of,  or  press  forward  ?  You 
shall  decide," 

"I  would  submit,  my  lord,  then,"  returned  the  person  he 
appealed  to,  in  a  silky  tone,  "  that  your  health  and  spirits  —  so 
important  under  Providence,  to  our  great  cause,  our  pure 
and  truthful  cause"  —  here  his  lordship  pulled  off  his  hat 
again,  though  it  was  raining  liard  —  "  require  refreshment  and 
repose." 

"  Go  on  before,  landlord,  and  show  the  way,"  said  Lord 
George  Gordon ;  "  we  will  follow  at  a  footpace." 

"If  you'll  give  me  leave,  my  lord,"  said  John  Grueby,  in  a 
low  voice,  "  I'll  change  my  proper  place,  and  ride  before  you. 
The  looks  of  the  landlord's  friend  are  not  over  honest,  and  it 
may  be  as  well  to  be  cautious  with  him." 

"  John  Grueby  is  quite  right,"  interposed  Mr.  Gashford, 
falling  back  hastily.  "  My  lord,  a  life  so  precious  as  yours 
must  not  be  put  in  peril.  Go  forward,  John,  by  all  means. 
If  you  have  any  reason  to  suspect  the  fellow,  blow  his  brains 
out." 

John  made  no  answer,  but  looking  straight  before  him,  as 
his  custom  seemed  to  be  when  the  secretary  spoke,  bade  Hugh 
push  on,  and  followed  close  behind  him.  Then  came  his 
lordship,  with  Mr.  Willet  at  his  bridle  rein  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
his  lordship's  secretary  —  for  that,  it  seemed,  was  Gashford's 
office. 

Hugh  strode  briskly  on,  often  looking  back  at  the  servant, 


304  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

whose  horse  was  close  iipou  his  heels,  and  glancing  with  a  leer 
at  his  holster  case  of  pistols,  by  which  he  seemed  to  set  great 
store.  He  was  a  square-built,  strong-made,  bull-necked 
fellow,  of  the  true  English  breed ;  and  as  Hugh  measured  him 
with  his  eye,  he  measured  Hugh,  regarding  him  meanwhile 
with  a  look  of  bluff  disdain.  He  was  much  older  than  the 
Maypole  man,  being  to  all  appearance  five  and  forty  ;  but  was 
one  of  those  self-possessed,  hard-headed,  imperturbable  fel- 
lows, who,  if  they  ever  are  beat  at  fisty -cuffs,  or  other  kind  of 
warfare,  never  know  it,  and  go  on  coolly  till  they  win. 

<'  If  I  led  you  wrong  now,"  said  Hugh,  tauntingly,  "  you'd 
—  ha  ha  ha  I  —  you'd  shoot  me  through  the  head,  I  suppose." 

John  Grueby  took  no  more  notice  of  this  remark  than  if  he 
had  been  deaf  and  Hugh  dumb;  but  kept  riding  on,  quite 
comfortably,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  liorizon. 
'  "  Did  you  ever  try  a  fall  with  a  man  when  you  were  young, 
master  ?  "  said  Hugh.  ^'  Can  you  make  any  play  at  single- 
stick ?  " 

John  Grueby  looked  at  him  sideways  with  the  same  con- 
tented air,  but  deigned  not  a  word  in  answer. 

"  —  Like  this  ?  •'  said  Hugh,  giving  his  cudgel  one  of  those 
skilful  flourishes,  in  which  the  rustic  of  that  time  delighted. 
"  Whoop ! " 

"  —  Or  that,"  returned  John  Grueby,  beating  down  his 
guard  with  his  whip,  and  striking  him  on  the  head  with  its 
but-end.  "  Yes,  I  played  a  little  once.  You  wear  your  hair 
too  long ;  I  should  have  cracked  your  crown  if  it  had  been  a 
little  shorter." 

It  was  a  pretty  smart,  loud-sounding  rap  as  it  was,  and 
evidently  astonished  Hugh ;  who  for  the  moment  seemed 
disposed  to  drag  his  new  acquaintance  from  his  saddle.  But 
his  face  betokening  neither  malice,  triumph,  rage,  nor  any 
lingering  idea  that  he  had  given  him  offence ;  his  eyes  gazing 
steadily  in  the  old  direction,  and  his  manner  being  as  careless 
and  composed  as  if  he  had  merely  brushed  away  a  fly  ;  Hugh 
was  so  puzzled,  and  so  disposed  to  look  upon  him  as  a  cus- 
tomer of  almost  supernatural  toughness,  that  he  merely 
laughed,  and  cried  ••  Well  done  ! "  then,  sheering  off  a  little, 
led  the  way  in  silence. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  305 

Before  the  lapse  of  many  minutes  the  party  halted  at  the 
Maypole  door,  Lord  George  and  his  secretary  quickly  dis- 
mounting, gave  their  horses  to  their  servant,  who,  under  the 
guidance  of  Hugh,  repaired  to  the  stables.  Right  glad  to 
escape  from  the  inclemency  of  the  night,  they  followed  Mr. 
Willet  into  the  common  room,  and  stood  warming  themselves 
and  drying  their  clothes  before  the  cheerful  fire,  while  he 
busied  himself  with  such  orders  and  preparations  as  his 
guest's  high  quality  required. 

As  he  bustled  in  and  out  of  the  room,  intent  on  these 
arrangements,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  the  two 
travellers,  of  whom,  as  yet,  he  knew  nothing  but  the  voice. 
The  lord,  the  great  personage,  who  did  the  ]Maypole  so  much 
honor,  was  about  the  middle  height,  of  a  slender  make,  and 
sallow  complexion,  with  an  aquiline  nose,  and  long  hair  of  a 
reddish  brown,  combed  perfectly  straight  and  smooth  about 
his  ears,  and  slightly  powdered,  but  without  the  faintest 
vestige  of  a  curl.  He  was  attired,  under  his  great-coat,  in  a 
full  suit  of  black,  quite  free  from  any  ornament,  and  of  the 
most  precise  and  sober  cut.  The  gravity  of  his  dress,  together 
with  a  certain  lankness  of  cheek  and  stiffness  of  deportment, 
added  nearly  ten  years  to  his  age,  but  his  figure  was  that  of 
one  not  yet  past  thirty.  As  he  stood  musing  in  the  red  glow 
of  the  fire,  it  was  striking  to  observe  his  very  bright  large 
eye,  which  betrayed  a  restlessness  of  thought  and  purpose, 
singularly  at  variance  with  the  studied  composure  and  sobriety 
of  his  mien,  and  with  his  quaint  and  sad  apparel.  It  had 
nothing  harsh  or  cruel  in  its  expression  ;  neither  had  his  face, 
which  was  thin  and  mild,  and  wore  an  air  of  melancholy  ;  but 
it  was  suggestive  of  an  indefinable  uneasiness,  which  infected 
those  who  looked  upon  him,  and  filled  them  with  a  kind  of 
pity  for  the  man :  though  why  it  did  so,  they  would  have  had 
some  trouble  to  explain. 

Gashford,  the  secretary,  was  taller,  angularly  made,  liigh- 
shouldered,  bony,  and  ungraceful.  His  dress,  in  imitation  of 
his  superior,  was  demure  and  staid  in  tlie  extreme ;  his 
manner,  formal  and  constrained.  This  gentleman  had  an 
overhanging  brow,  great  hands  and  feet  and  ears,  and  a  pair 
of  eyes  tliat  seemed  to  have   made  an  unnatural   retreat  int(; 

VOL.  I. 


306  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

his  head,  and  to  have  dug  themselves  a  cave  to  hide  in.  His 
manner  was  smooth  and  humble,  but  very  sly  and  slinking. 
He  wore  the  aspect  of  a  man  who  was  always  lying  in  wait 
for  something  that  ivouldnH  come  to  pass ;  but  he  looked 
patient  —  very  patient  —  and  fawned  like  a  spaniel  dog.  Even 
now,  while  he  warmed  and  rubbed  his  hands  before  the  blaze, 
he  had  the  air  of  one  who  onty  presumed  to  enjoy  it  in  his 
degree  as  a  commoner ;  and  though  he  knew  his  lord  was  not 
regarding  him,  he  looked  into  his  face  from  time  to  time, 
and,  with  a  meek  and  deferential  manner,  smiled  as  if  for 
practice. 

Such  were  the  guests  whom  old  John  "Willet,  with  a  fixed 
and  leaden  eye,  surveyed  a  hundred  times,  and  to  whom  he 
now  advanced  with  a  state  candlestick  in  each  hand,  beseeching 
them  to  follow  him  into  a  worthier  chamber.  "  For  my  lord," 
said  John  —  it  is  odd  enough,  but  certain  people  seem  to  have 
as  great  a  pleasure  in  pronouncing  titles  as  their  owners  have 
in  wearing  them  —  *'  this  room,  my  lord,  isn't  at  all  the  sort 
of  place  for  your  lordship,  and  I  have  to  beg  your  lordship's 
pardon  for  keeping  you  here,  my  lord,  one  minute." 

With  this  address,  John  ushered  them  up-stairs  into  the 
state  apartment,  which,  like  many  other  things  of  state,  was 
cold  and  comfortless.  Their  own  footsteps,  reverberating 
through  the  spacious  room,  struck  upon  their  hearing  with 
a  hollow  sound  ;  and  its  damp  and  chilly  atmosphere  was 
rendered  doubly  cheerless  by  contrast  with  the  homely  warmth 
they  had  deserted. 

It  was  of  no  use,  however,  to  propose  a  return  to  the  place 
they  had  quitted,  for  the  preparations  went  on  so  briskly  that 
there  was  no  time  to  stop  them.  John,  with  the  tall  candle- 
sticks in  his  hands,  bowed  them  up  to  the  fireplace ;  Hugh, 
striding  in  with  a  lighted  brand  and  a  pile  of  fire-wood,  cast  it 
down  upon  the  hearth,  and  set  it  in  a  blaze ;  John  Grueby 
(who  had  a  great  blue  cockade  in  his  hat,  which  he  appeared 
to  despise  mightily)  brought  in  the  portmanteau  he  had 
carried  on  his  horse,  and  placed  it  on  the  floor ;  and  presently 
all  three  were  busily  engaged  in  drawing  out  the  screen, 
laying  the  cloth,  inspecting  the  beds,  lighting  fires  in  the  bed- 
room, expediting  the  supper,  and  making  everything  as  cosey 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  307 

and  as  snug  as  might  be,  on  so  short  a  notice.  In  less  than 
an  hour's  time,  supper  had  been  served,  and  ate,  and  cleared 
away ;  and  Lord  George  and  his  secretary,  with  slippered 
feet  and  legs  stretched  out  before  the  fire,  sat  over  some  hot 
mulled  wine  together. 

"  So  ends,  my  lord,-'  said  Gashford,  filling  liis  glass  with 
great  complacency,  "the  blessed  work  of  a  most  blessed  day." 

"  And  of  a  blessed  yesterday,"  said  his  lordship,  raising  his 
head. 

"Ah!" — and  here  the  secretary  clasped  his  hands  —  "a 
blessed  yesterday  indeed !  The  Protestants  of  Suffolk  are 
godly  men  and  true.  Though  others  of  our  countrymen  have 
lost  their  way  in  darkness,  even  as  we,  my  lord,  did  lose  our 
road  to-night,  theirs  is  the  light  and  glory." 

"  Did  I  move  them,  Gashford  ?  "  said  Lord  George. 

"  Move  them,  my  lord  !  Move  them !  They  cried  to  be 
led  on  against  the  Papists,  they  vowed  a  dreadful  vengeance 
on  their  heads,  they  roared  like  men  possessed  "  — 

"  But  not  by  devils,"  said  his  lord. 

"  By  devils  !  my  lord  !     By  angels." 

"  Yes  —  oh,  surely  —  by  angels,  no  doubt,"  said  Lord  George, 
thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  taking  them  out  again  to 
bite  his  nails,  and  looking  uncomfortably  at  the  fire.  "Of 
course  by  angels  —  eh,  Gashford  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  doubt  it,  my  lord  ?  "  said  the  secretary. 

"No  —  no,"  returned  his  lord.  "No.  Why  should  I? 
I  suppose  it  would  be  decidedly  irreligious  to  doubt  it  — 
wouldn't  it,  Gashford  ?  Though  there  certainly  were,"  he 
added,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "some  plaguey  ill- 
looking  characters  among  them." 

"When  you  warmed,"  said  the  secretary,  looking  sharply 
at  the  other's  downcast  eyes,  which  briglitened  slowly  as  he 
spoke ;  when  you  warmed  into  that  noble  outbreak :  when 
you  told  them  that  you  were  never  of  the  lukewarm  or  tlie 
timid  tribe,  and  bade  them  take  heed  tliat  they  were  prepared 
to  follow  one  who  would  lead  them  on,  though  to  tlie  very 
death;  when  you  spoke  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
men  across  the  Scottish  border  who  would  take  their  own 
redress  at  any  time,  if  it  were  not  conceded ;  when  you  cried 


308  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

'  Perish  the  Pope  and  all  his  base  adherents ;  the  penal  laws 
against  them  shall  never  be  repealed  while  Englishmen  have 
hearts  and  hands  '  —  and  waved  your  own  and  touched  your 
sword;  and  when  they  cried,  ' Xo  Popery  ! '  and  you  cried, 
^No;  not  even  if  we  wade  in  blood,'  and  they  threw  up  their 
hats  and  cried,  '  Hurrah  !  not  even  if  we  wade  in  blood  ;  No 
Popery  I  Lord  George  !  Down  with  the  Papists  —  Vengeance 
on  their  heads  ; '  when  this  was  said  and  done,  and  a  word 
from  you,  my  lord,  could  raise  or  still  the  tumult  —  ah !  then 
I  felt  what  greatness  was  indeed,  and  thought.  When  was 
there  ever  power  like  this  of  Lord  George  Gordon's !  " 

"  It's  a  great  power.  You're  right.  It  is  a  great  power  ! " 
he  cried  with  sparkling  eyes.  "  But  —  dear  Gashford  —  did  I 
really  say  all  that  ?  " 

"  And  how  much  more  ! "  cried  the  secretary,  looking 
upwards.     "  Ah !  how  much  more  !  " 

''  And  I  told  them  what  you  say,  about  the  one  hundred 
and  forty  thousand  men  in  Scotland,  did  I ! "  he  asked  with 
evident  delight.     "  That  was  bold." 

"Our  cause  is  boldness.     Truth  is  always  bold." 

"  Certainly.     So  is  religion.     She's  bold,  Gashford  ?  " 

"  The  true  religion  is,  my  lord." 

"And  that's  ours,"  he  rejoined,  moving  uneasily  in  his 
seat,  and  biting  his  nails  as  though  he  would  pare  them  to  the 
quick.  "  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  ours  being  the  true  one. 
You  feel  as  certain  of  that  as  I  do,  Gashford,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Does  my  lord  ask  ?we,"  whined  Gashford,  drawing  his 
chair  nearer  with  an  injured  air,  and  laying  his  broad  flat 
hand  upon  the  table ;  "  me/'  he  repeated,  bending  the  dark 
hollows  of  his  e^^es  upon  him  with  an  unwholesome  smile, 
"  who,  stricken  by  the  magic  of  his  eloquence  in  Scotland 
but  a  year  ago,  abjured  the  errors  of  the  Eomish  church,  and 
clung  to  him  as  one  whose  timely  hand  had  plucked  me  from 
a  pit  ?  " 

"  True.  No  —  no.  I  —  I  didn't  mean  it,"  replied  the  other, 
shaking  him  by  the  hand,  rising  from  his  seat,  and  pacing 
restlessly  about  the  room.  "It's  a  proud  thing  to  lead  the 
people,  Gashford,"  he  added  as  he  made  a  sudden  halt. 

"  By  force  of  reason  too,"  returned  the  pliant  secretary. 


BARXABV  BUDGE.  309 

"Ay,  to  be  sure.  They  may  cough,  and  jeer,  and  groan  in 
Parliament,  and  call  me  fool  and  madman,  but  which  of 
them  can  raise  this  human  sea  and  make  it  swell  and  roar  at 
pleasure  ?     Not  one." 

"  oSTot  one,"  repeated  Gashford. 

"  Which  of  them  can  say  for  his  honesty,  what  I  can  say 
for  mine  ;  which  of  them  has  refused  a  minister's  bribe  of 
one  thousand  pounds  a  year,  to  resign  his  seat  in  favor  of 
another  ?     Xot  one." 

'•Not  one,"  repeated  Gashford  again  —  taking  the  lion's 
share  of  the  mulled  wine  between  whiles. 

"  And  as  we  are  honest,  true,  and  in  a  sacred  cause,  Gash- 
ford," said  Lord  George  with  a  heightened  color  and  in  a 
louder  voice,  as  he  laid  his  fevered  hand  upon  his  shoulder, 
"  and  are  the  only  men  who  regard  the  mass  of  people  out  of 
doors,  or  are  regarded  by  them,  we  will  uphold  them  to  the 
last ;  and  will  raise  a  cry  against  these  un-English  Papists 
which  shall  re-echo  through  the  country,  and  roll  with  a  noise 
like  thunder.  I  will  be  worthy  of  the  motto  on  my  coat  of 
arms,  'Called  and  chosen  and  faithful.'  " 

"  Called,"  said  the  secretary,  "  by  Heaven." 

"I  am." 

"  Chosen  by  the  people." 

a  Yes." 

"  Faithful  to  both." 

"  To  the  block  !  " 

It  would  be  difficult  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
excited  manner  in  which  he  gave  these  answers  to  the  secre- 
tary's promptings ;  of  the  rapidity  of  his  utterance,  or  the 
violence  of  his  tone  and  gesture ;  in  which,  struggling  through 
his  Puritan's  demeanor,  was  something  wild  and  ungovern- 
able which  broke  through  all  restraint.  For  some  minutes  he 
walked  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room,  then  stopping  suddenly, 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Gashford  —  you  moved  them  yesterday  too.  Oh,  yes  I 
You  did." 

"I  shone  with  a  reflected  light,  my  lord,"  replied  the 
humble  secretary,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  heart.  "  I  did 
my  best." 


310  liABNABY  RUDGE. 

"You  did  well,"  said  liis  master,  "and  are  a  great  and 
worthy  instrument.  If  you  will  ring  for  John  Grueby  to 
carry  tlie  portmanteau  into  my  room,  and  will  wait  here  while 
I  undress,  we  will  dispose  of  business  as  usual,  if  you're  not 
too  tired."' 

"  Too  tired,  my  lord !  —  But  this  is  his  consideration ! 
Christian  from  head  to  foot."  With  which  soliloquy,  the 
secretary  tilted  the  jug,  and  looked  very  hard  into  the  mulled 
wine,  to  see  how  much  remained. 

John  Willet  and  John  Grueby  appeared  together.  The  one 
bearing  the  great  candlesticks,  and  the  other  the  portmanteau, 
showed  the  deluded  lord  into  his  chamber ;  and  left  the  secre- 
tary alone,  to  yawn  and  shake  himself,  and  finally,  to  fall 
asleep  before  the  fire. 

"Now,  Mr.  Gashford,  sir,"  said  John  Grueby  in  his  ear, 
after  what  appeared  to  him  a  moment  of  unconsciousness  ; 
"my  lord's  abed." 

"  Oh.  Very  good,  John,"  was  his  mild  reply.  "  Thank  you, 
John.     Nobody  need  sit  up.     I  know  my  room." 

"  I  hope  you're  not  a-going  to  trouble  your  head  to-night, 
or  my  lord's  head  neither,  with  anything  more  about  Bloody 
Mary,"  said  John.  "  I  wish  the  blessed  old  creetur  had  never 
been  born." 

"I  said  you  might  go  to  bed,  John,"  returned  the  secretary. 
"  You  didn't  hear  me,  I  think." 

"  Between  Bloody  Marys,  and  blue  cockades,  and  glorious 
Queen  Besses,  and  no  Poperys,  and  Protestant  associations, 
and  making  of  speeches,"  pursued  John  Grueby,  looking,  as 
usual,  a  long  way  off,  and  taking  no  notice  of  this  hint,  "  my 
lord's  half  off  his  head.  When  we  go  out  o'  doors,  such  a 
set  of  ragamuffins  comes  a-shouting  after  us,  '  Gordon  for- 
ever ! '  that  I'm  ashamed  of  myself  and  don't  know  where  to 
look.  When  we're  in-doors,  they  come  a-roaring  and  scream- 
ing about  the  house  like  so  many  devils ;  and  my  lord  instead 
of  ordering  them  to  be  drove  away,  goes  out  into  the  balcony 
and  demeans  himself  by  making  speeches  to  'em,  and  calls 
'em  'Men  of  England,'  and  'Fellow-countrymen,'  as  if  he  was 
fond  of  'em  and  thanked  'em  for  coming.  I  can't  make  it 
out,  but  they're  all  mixed  up  somehow  or  another  with  that 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  311 

unfort'nate  Bloody  ^lary,  and  call  her  name  out  till  they're 
hoarse.  They're  all  Protestants  too  —  every  man  and  boy 
among  'em :  and  Protestants  is  very  fond  of  spoons  I  find,  and 
silver  plate  in  general,  whenever  area-gates  is  left  open  acci- 
dentally. I  wish  that  was  the  worst  of  it,  and  that  no  more 
harm  might  be  to  come ;  but  if  you  don't  stop  these  ugly 
customers  in  time,  ^Ir.  Gashford  (and  I  know  you;  you're 
the  man  that  blows  the  fire),  you'll  find  'em  grow  a  little  bit 
too  strong  for  you.  One  of  these  evenings,  when  the  weather 
gets  warmer  and  Protestants  are  thirsty,  they'll  be  pulling 
London  down,  —  and  I  never  heerd  that  Bloody  jNEary  went  as 
far  as  that.''' 

Gashford  had  vanished  long  ago,  and  these  remarks  had 
been  bestowed  on  empty  air.  Not  at  all  discomposed  by  the 
discovery,  John  Grueby  fixed  his  hat  on,  wrong  side  foremost 
that  he  might  be  unconscious  of  the  shadow  of  the  obnoxious 
cockade,  and  withdrew  to  bed ;  shaking  his  head  in  a  very 
gloomy  and  prophetic  manner  until  he  reached  his  chamber. 


311^  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

Gashford,  with  a  smiling  face,  but  still  with  looks  of  pro- 
found deference  and  humility,  betook  himself  towards  his 
master's  room,  smoothing  his  hair  down  as  he  went,  and 
humming  a  psalm  tune.  As  he  approached  Lord  George's 
door,  he  cleared  his  throat  and  hummed  more  vigorously. 

There  was  a  remarkable  contrast  between  this  man's  occu- 
pation at  the  moment,  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
which  was  singularly  repulsive  and  malicious.  His  beetling 
brow  almost  obscured  his  eyes  ;  his  lip  was  curled  contempt- 
uously; his  very  shoulders  seemed  to  sneer  in  stealthy 
whisperings  with  his  great  flapped  ears. 

"  Hush ! "  he  muttered  softly,  as  he  peeped  in  at  the 
chamber-door.  "He  seems  to  be  asleep.  Pray  Heaven  he 
is  !  Too  much  watching,  too  much  care,  too  much  thought  — 
ah !  Lord  preserve  him  for  a  martyr  !  He  is  a  saint,  if  ever 
saint  drew  loreath  on  this  bad  earth." 

Placing  his  light  upon  a  table,  he  walked  on  tiptoe  to  the 
fire,  and  sitting  in  a  chair  before  it  with  his  back  towards  the 
bed,  went  on  communing  with  himself  like  one  who  thought 
aloud :  — 

'^  The  savior  of  his  country  and  his  country's  religion,  the 
friend  of  his  poor  countrymen,  the  enemy  of  the  proud  and 
harsh  ;  beloved  of  the  rejected  and  oppressed,  adored  by  forty 
thousand  bold  and  loyal  English  hearts  —  what  happy  slum, 
bers  his  should  be ! "  And  here  he  sighed,  and  warmed  his 
hands,  and  shook  his  head  as  men  do  when  their  hearts  are 
full,  and  heaved  another  sigh,  and  warmed  his  hands  again. 

"  Why,  Gashford  ? "  said  Lord  George,  who  was  lying 
broad  awake,  upon  his  side,  and  had  been  staring  at  him  from 
his  entrance. 

"  My  —  my  lord,"  said  Gashford,  starting  and  looking  round 
as  though  in  great  surprise.     "  I  have  disturbed  you  !  " 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  313 

"  I  have  not  been  sleeping." 

"  Not  sleeping  ! "  he  repeated,  with  assumed  confusion. 
"  What  can  I  say  for  having  in  your  presence  given  utterance 
to  thoughts  —  but  they  were  sincere  —  they  were  sincere  ! " 
exclaimed  the  secretar}^,  drawing  his  sleeve  in  a  hasty  way 
across  his  eyes,  "  and  why  should  I  regret  your  having  heard 
them  ?  " 

'^  Gashford,"  said  the  poor  lord,  stretching  out  his  hand 
with  manifest  emotion.  "Do  not  regret  it.  You  love  me 
w^ell,  I  know  —  too  well.     I  don't  deserve  such  homage." 

Gashford  made  no  reply,  but  grasped  the  hand  and  pressed 
it  to  his  lips.  Then  rising,  and  taking  from  the  trunk  a  little 
desk,  he  placed  it  on  a  table  near  the  fire,  unlocked  it  with 
a  key  he  carried  in  his  pocket,  sat  down  before  it,  took  out  a 
pen,  and,  before  dipping  it  in  the  inkstand,  sucked  it  —  to 
compose  the  fashion  of  his  mouth  perhaps,  on  which  a  smile 
was  hovering  yet. 

"  How  do  our  numbers  stand  since  last  enrolling-night  ?  " 
inquired  Lord  George.  "  Are  we  really  forty  thousand  strong, 
or  do  we  still  speak  in  round  numbers  when  we  take  the 
Association  at  that  amount  ?  " 

"  Our  total  now  exceeds  that  number  by  a  score  and  three," 
Gashford  replied,  casting  his  eyes  upon  his  papers. 

"The  funds?" 

"Not  very  improving;  but  there  is  some  manna  in  the 
wilderness,  my  lord.  Hem  !  On  Friday  night  the  widows' 
mites  dropped  in.  'Forty  scavengers,  three  and  fourpence. 
An  aged  pew-opener  of  St.  Martin's  parish,  sixpence.  A  bell- 
ringer  of  the  established  church,  sixpence.  A  Protestant 
infant,  newly  born,  one  halfpenny.  The  United  Link  Boys, 
three  shillings  —  one  bad.  The  anti-popish  prisoners  in  New- 
gate, five  and  fourpence.  A  friend  in  Bedlam,  half  a  crown. 
Dennis  the  hangman,  one  shilling. 

"That  Dennis,"  said  his  lordship,  "is  an  earnest  man.  I 
marked  him  in  the  crowd  in  Welbeck  Street,  last  Friday." 

"A  good  man,"  rejoined  the  secretary  ;  "a  stanch,  sincere, 
and  truly  zealous  man." 

"  He  should  be  encouraged,"  said  Lord  George.  "  Make  a 
note  of  Dennis.     I'll  talk  with  liim." 


314  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

Gashford  obeyed,  and  went  on  reading  from  his  list :  — 

"'The  Friends  of  Reason,  half  a  guinea.  The  Friends  of 
Libert}^,  half  a  guinea.  The  Friends  of  Peace,  half  a  guinea. 
The  Friends  of  Charity,  half  a  guinea.  The  Friends  of  Mercy, 
half  a  guinea.  The  Associated  Rememberers  of  Bloody  Mary, 
half  a  guinea.     The  United  Bull-Dogs,  half  a  guinea.'  " 

"The  United  Bull-Doggs,"  said  Lord  George,  biting  his 
nails  most  horribly,  "'  are  a  new  society,  are  they  not  ?  " 

"  Formerly  the  'Prentice  Knights,  my  lord.  The  indentures 
of  the  old  members  expiring  by  degrees,  they  changed  their 
name,  it  seems,  though  they  still  have  'prentices  among  them, 
as  well  as  workmen." 

"  What  is  their  president's  name  ?  "  inquired  Lord  George. 

'•President,"  said  Gashford,  reading,  "Mr.  Simon  Tap- 
pertit." 

"I  remember  him.  The  little  man,  who  sometimes  brings 
an  elderly  sister  to  our  meetings,  and  sometimes  another 
female  too,  who  is  conscientious,  I  have  no  doubt,  but  not 
well-favored  ?  " 

"  The  very  same,  my  lord." 

"  Tappertit  is  an  earnest  man,"  said  Lord  George  thought- 
fully.    "  Eh,  Gashford  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  foremost  among  them  all,  my  lord.  He  snuffs 
the  battle  from  afar,  like  the  war-horse.  He  throws  his  hat 
up  in  the  street  as  if  he  were  inspired,  and  makes  most  stirring 
speeches  from  the  shoulders  of  his  friends." 

"Make  a  note  of  Tappertit,"  said  Lord  George  Gordon. 
"  We  may  advance  him  to  a  place  of  trust." 

"  That,"  rejoined  the  secretary,  doing  as  he  was  told,  "  is 
all  —  except  Mrs.  Varden's  box  (fourteenth  time  of  opening), 
seven  shillings  and  sixpence  in  silver  and  copper,  and  half  a 
guinea  in  gold;  and  Miggs  (being  the  saving  of  a  quarter's 
wages),  one  and  threepence." 

"  Miggs,"  said  Lord  George.     "  Is  that  a  man  ?  " 

"  The  name  is  entered  on  the  list  as  a  woman,"  replied  the 
secretary.  "  I  think  she  is  the  tall  spare  female  of  whom  you 
spoke  just  now,  my  lord,  as  not  being  well-favored,  who 
sometimes  comes  to  hear  the  speeches  —  along  with  Tappertit 
and  Mrs.  Varden." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  315 

"  Mrs.  Varden  is  the  elderly  lady,  then,  is  she  !  '- 

The  secretary  nodded,  and  rubbed  the  bridge  of  his  nose 
with  the  feather  of  his  pen. 

"  She  is  a  zealous  sister,"  said  Lord  George.  "  Her  collec- 
tion goes  on  prosperously,  and  is  pursued  with  fervor.  Has 
her  husband  joined  ?  " 

"  A  malignant,"  returned  the  secretary,  folding  up  his 
papers.  "  Unworthy  such  a  wife.  He  remains  in  outer  dark- 
ness, and  steadily  refuses." 

"  The  consequences  be  upon  his  own  head  !  —  Gashford  !  " 

"My  lord!" 

"  You  don't  think,"  he  turned  restlessly  in  his  bed  as  he 
spoke,  "these  people  will  desert  me,  when  the  hour  arrives  ? 
I  have  spoken  boldly  for  them,  ventured  much,  suppressed 
nothing.     They'll  not  fall  off,  will  they  ?  " 

"No  fear  of  that  my  lord,"  said  Gashford,  with  a  meaning 
look,  which  was  rather  the  involuntary  expression  of  his  own 
thoughts  than  intended  as  any  confirmation  of  his  words,  for 
the  other's  face  was  turned  away.  "  Be  sure  there  is  no  fear 
of  that." 

"Nor,"  he  said  with  a  more  restless  motion  than  before, 
"of  their  —  but  they  can  sustain  no  harm  from  leaguing  for 
this  purpose.  Right  is  on  our  side,  though  Might  may  be 
against  us.  You  feel  as  sure  of  that  as  I  —  honestly,  you 
do  ?  " 

The  secretary  was  beginning  with  "  You  do  not  doubt," 
when  the  other  interrupted  him,  and  impatiently  rejoined,  — 

"  Doubt.  No.  Who  says  I  doubt  ?  If  I  doubted,  should 
I  cast  away  relatives,  friends,  everything,  for  this  unhappy 
country's  sake  ;  this  unhappy  country,"  he  cried,  springing 
up  in  bed,  after  repeating  the  phrase  "unhappy  country's 
sake  "  to  himself,  at  .least  a  dozen  times,  "  forsaken  of  God 
and  man,  delivered  over  to  a  dangerous  confederacy  of  Popish 
powers ;  the  prey  of  corruption,  idolatry,  and  despotism  ! 
Who  says  I  doubt  ?  Am  I  called,  and  chosen,  and  faithful  ? 
Tell  me.     Am  I,  or  am  I  not?  " 

"  To  God,  the  country,  and  yourself,"  cried  Gashford. 

"  I  am,  I  will  be.  I  say  again,  I  will  be :  to  the  block. 
Who  sa3's  as  much  !     Do  you  ?     Does  any  man  alive  ?  " 


316  BARNAEY  RUDGE. 

The  secretary  drooped  his  head  with  an  expression  of  per- 
fect acquiescence  in  anything  that  had  been  said  or  might  be; 
and  Lord  George  gradually  sinking  down  upon  his  pillow,  fell 
asleep. 

Although  there  was  something  very  ludicrous  in  his  vehe- 
ment manner,  taken  in  conjunction  with  his  meagre  aspect 
and  ungraceful  presence,  it  would  scarcely  have  provoked  a 
smile  in  any  man  of  kindly  feeling;  or  even  if  it  had,  he 
would  have  felt  sorry  and  almost  angry  with  himself  next 
moment,  for  yielding  to  the  impulse.  This  lord  was  sincere 
in  his  violence  and  in  his  wavering.  A  nature  prone  to  false 
enthusiasm,  and  the  vanity  of  being  a  leader,  were  the  worst 
qualities  apparent  in  his  composition.  All  the  rest  was  weak- 
ness—  sheer  weakness;  and  it  is  the  unhappy  lot  of  thor- 
oughly weak  men,  that  their  very  sympathies,  affections,  con- 
fidences —  all  the  qualities  which  in  better-constituted  minds 
are  virtues  —  dwindle  into  foibles,  or  turn  into  downright 
vices. 

Gashford,  with  many  a  sly  look  towards  the  bed,  sat  chuck- 
ling at  his  master's  folly,  until  his  deep  and  heavy  breathing 
warned  him  that  he  might  retire.  Locking  his  desk,  and 
replacing  it  within  the  trunk  (but  not  before  he  had  taken 
from  a  secret  lining  two  printed  handbills),  he  cautiously 
withdrew ;  looking  back,  as  he  went,  at  the  pale  face  of  the 
slumbering  man,  above  whose  head  the  dusty  plumes  that 
crowned  the  Maypole  couch,  waved  drearily  and  sadly  as 
though  it  were  a  bier. 

Stopping  on  the  staircase  to  listen  that  all  was  quiet,  and 
to  take  off  his  shoes  lest  his  footsteps  should  alarm  any  light 
sleeper  who  might  be  near  at  hand,  he  descended  to  the  ground 
floor,  and  thrust  one  of  his  bills  beneath  the  great  door  of  the 
house.  That  done,  he  crept  softly  back  to  his  own  chamber, 
and  from  the  window  let  another  fall  —  carefully  wrapped 
round  a  stone  to  save  it  from  the  wind  —  into  the  yard  below. 

They  were  addressed  on  the  back  "To  every  Protestant 
into  whose  hands  this  shall  come,"  and  bore  within,  w^hat 
follows  :  — 

"  Men  and  Brethren.  Whoever  shall  find  this  letter,  will 
take  it  as  a  warning  to  join,  without  delay,  the  friends  of  Lord 


BAENABT  RUBGE.  317 

George  Gordon.  There  are  great  events  at  hand;  and  the 
times  are  dangerous  and  troubled.  Read  this  carefully,  keep 
it  clean,  and  drop  it  somewhere  else.  For  King,  and  Country. 
Union." 

"More  seed,  more  seed,"  said  Gashford  as  he  closed  the 
window.     "  When  will  the  harvest  come  !  " 


318  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

To  surround  anything,  however  monstrous  or  ridiculous, 
with  an  air  of  mystery,  is  to  invest  it  with  a  secret  charm, 
and  power  of  attraction  which  to  the  crowd  is  irresistible. 
False  priests,  false  prophets,  false  doctors,  false  patriots,  false 
prodigies  of  every  kind,  veiling  their  proceedings  in  mystery, 
have  always  addressed  themselves  at  an  immense  advantage 
to  the  popular  credulity,  and  have  been,  perhaps,  more  in- 
debted to  that  resource  in  gaining  and  keeping  for  a  time  the 
upper  hand  of  Truth  and  Common  Sense,  than  to  any  half- 
dozen  items  in  the  whole  catalogue  of  imposture.  Curiosity 
is,  and  has  been  from  the  creation  of  the  w^orld,  a  master- 
passion.  To  awaken  it,  to  gratify  it  by  slight  degrees,  and 
yet  leave  something  always  in  suspense,  is  to  establish  the 
surest  hold  that  can  be  had,  in  wrong,  on  the  unthinking 
portion  of  mankind. 

If  a  man  had  stood  on  London  Bridge,  calling  till  he  was 
hoarse,  upon  the  passers-by,  to  join  with  Lord  George  Gordon, 
although  for  an  object  which  no  man  understood,  and  which 
in  that  very  incident  had  a  charm  of  its  own,  —  the  probability 
is,  that  he  might  have  influenced  a  score  of  people  in  a  month. 
If  all  zealous  Protestants  had  been  publicly  urged  to  join  an 
association  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  singing  a  hymn  or  two 
occasionally,  and  hearing  some  indifferent  speeches  made,  and 
ultimately  of  petitioning  Parliament  not  to  pass  an  act  for 
abolishing  the  penal  laws  against  Roman  Catholic  priests,  the 
penalty  of  perpetual  imprisonment  denounced  against  those 
who  educated  children  in  that  persuasion,  and  the  disqualifi- 
cation of  all  members  of  the  Romish  church  to  inherit  real 
property  in  the  United  Kingdom  by  right  of  purchase  or 
descent,  —  matters  so  far  removed  from  the  business  and 
bosoms  of  the  mass,  might  perhaps  have  called  together  a 
hundred  people.     But  when   vague   rumors  got  abroad,  that 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  319 

in  this  Protestant  association  a  secret  power  was  mustering 
against  the  government  for  undefined  and  mighty  purposes  ; 
when  the  air  was  filled  with  whispers  of  a  confederacy  among 
the  Popish  powers  to  degrade  and  enslave  England,  establish 
an  inquisition  in  London,  and  turn  the  pens  of  Smithfield 
market  into  stakes  and  caldrons  ;  when  terrors  and  alarms 
which  no  man  understood  were  perpetually  broached,  both  in 
and  out  of  Parliament,  by  one  enthusiast  who  did  not  under- 
stand himself,  and  bygone  bugbears  which  had  lain  quietly 
in  their  graves  for  centuries  were  raised  again  to  haunt  the 
ignorant  and  credulous ;  when  all  this  was  done,  as  it  were, 
in  the  dark,  and  secret  invitations  to  join  the  Great  Protestant 
Association  in  defence  of  religion,  life,  and  liberty,  were 
dropped  in  the  public  ways,  thrust  under  the  house-doors, 
tossed  in  at  windows,  and  pressed  into  the  hands  of  those  who 
trod  the  streets  by  night ;  when  they  glared  from  every  wall, 
and  shone  on  every  post  and  pillar,  so  that  stocks  and  stones 
appeared  infected  with  the  common  fear,  urging  all  men  to 
join  together  blindfold  in  resistance  of  they  knew  not  what, 
they  knew  not  why ;  — then  the  mania  spread  indeed,  and  the 
body,  still  increasing  every  day,  grew  forty  thousand  strong. 

So  said,  at  least,  in  this  month  of  March,  1780,  Lord 
George  Gordon,  the  Association's  president.  Whether  it  was 
the  fact  or  otherwise,  few  men  knew,  or  cared  to  ascertain. 
It  had  never  made  any  public  demonstration ;  had  scarcely 
ever  been  heard  of,  save  through  him  ;  had  never  been  seen ; 
and  was  supposed  by  many  to  be  the  mere  creature  of  his  dis- 
ordered brain.  He  was  accustomed  to  talk  largely  about 
numbers  of  men  —  stimulated,  as  it  was  inferred,  by  certain 
successful  disturbances,  arising  out  of  the  same  subject,  which 
had  occurred  in  Scotland  in  the  previous  year ;  was  looked 
upon  as  a  cracked-brained  member  of  the  lower  house,  who 
attacked  all  parties  and  sided  with  none,  and  was  very  little 
regarded.  It  was  known  that  there  was  discontent  abroad  — 
there  always  is;  he  had  been  accustomed  to  address  the  people 
by  placard,  speech,  and  pamphlet,  upon  other  questions ; 
nothing  had  come,  in  England,  of  his  past  exertions,  and 
nothing  was  apprehended  from  liis  present.  Just  as  he  has 
come  upon  the  reader,  he  had  come,  from  time  to  time,  upon 


320  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

the  public,  and  been  forgotten  in  a  day ;  as  suddenly  as  he 
appears  in  these  pages,  after  a  blank  of  five  long  years,  did 
he  and  his  proceedings  begin  to  force  themselves,  about  this 
period,  upon  the  notice  of  thousands  of  people,  who  had 
mingled  in  active  life  during  the  whole  interval,  and  who, 
without  being  deaf  or  blind  to  passing  events,  had  scarcely 
ever  thought  of  him  before. 

"My  lord,"  said  Gashford  in  his  ear,  as  he  drew  the 
curtains  of  his  bed  betimes  ;  "'  my  lord  !  " 

"  Yes  —  who's  that  ?     What  is  it  ?  " 

"The  clock  has  struck  nine,"  returned  the  secretary,  with 
meekty  folded  hands.  "  You  have  slept  well  ?  I  hope  you 
have  slept  well  ?  If  my  prayers  are  heard,  you  are  refreshed 
indeed." 

"  To  say  the  truth,  I  have  slept  so  soundly,"  said  Lord 
George,  rubbing  his  e3^es  and  looking  round  the  room,  "  that 
I  don't  remember  quite  —  what  place  is  this  ?  " 

"  My  lord  !  "  cried  Gashford,  with  a  smile. 

"Oh!"  returned  his  superior.  "Yes.  You're  not  a  Jew 
then  ?  " 

"  A  Jew  !  "  exclaimed  the  pious  secretary,  recoiling. 

"I  dreamed  that  we  were  Jews,  Gashford.  You  and  I  — 
both  of  us  —  Jews  with  long  beards." 

"  Heaven  forbid,  my  lord  !     We  might  as  well  be  Papists." 

"I  suppose  we  might,"  returned  the  other,  very  quickly. 
"  Eh  ?     You  really  think  so,  Gashford  ?  " 

"  Surely  I  do,"  the  secretary  cried,  with  looks  of  great 
surprise. 

"  Humph  !  "  he  muttered.     "  Yes  that  seems  reasonable." 

"  I  hoj)e  my  lord  "  —  the  secretary  began. 

'-  Hope  !  "  he  echoed,  interrupting  him.  "  Why  do  you  say, 
you  hope  ?     There's  no  harm  in  thinking  of  such  things." 

"  Not  in  dreams,"  returned  the  secretary. 

"  In  dreams  !     No,  nor  waking  either." 

— "  '  Called,  and  chosen,  and  faithful,'  "  said  Gashford, 
taking  up  Lord  George's  watch  which  lay  upon  a  chair,  and 
seeming  to  read  the  inscription  on  the  seal,  abstractedly. 

It  was  the  slightest  action  possible,  not  obtruded  on  his 
notice,  and  apparently  the  result  of  a  moment's  absence  of 


BARNABY  RVDGE.  321 

mind,  not  worth  remark.  But  as  the  words  were  uttered, 
Lord  George,  who  had  been  going  on  impetuously,  stopped 
short,  reddened,  and  was  silent.  Apparently  quite  uncon- 
scious of  this  change  in  his  demeanor,  the  wily  secretary 
stepped  a  little  apart,  under  pretence  of  pulling  up  the 
window-blind,  and  returning,  when  the  other  had  had  time  to 
recover,  said,  — 

"  The  holy  cause  goes  bravely  on,  my  lord.  I  was  not 
idle,  even  last  night.  I  dropped  two  of  the  handbills  before 
I  went  to  bed,  and  both  are  gone  this  morning.  Xobody  in 
the  house  has  mentioned  the  circumstance  of  finding  them, 
though  I  have  been  down-stairs  full  half  an  hour.  One  or 
two  recruits  will  be  their  first  fruit,  I  predict ;  and  who  shall 
say  how  many  more,  with  Heaven's  blessing  on  your  inspired 
exertions  ! " 

"  It  was  a  famous  device  in  the  beginning,"  replied  Lord 
George  ;  "  an  excellent  device,  and  did  good  service  in 
Scotland.  It  was  quite  worthy  of  you.  You  remind  me  not 
to  be  a  sluggard,  Gashford,  when  the  vineyard  is  menaced 
with  destruction,  and  may  be  trodden  down  by  Papist  feet. 
Let  the  horses  be  saddled  in  half  an  hour.  We  must  be  up 
and  doing ! " 

He  said  this  with  a  heightened  color,  and  in  a  tone  of  such 
enthusiasm,  that  the  secretary  deemed  all  further  prompting 
needless,  and  withdrew. 

—  "  Dreamed  he  was  a  Jew,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  as  he 
closed  the  bedroom  door.  "  He  may  come  to  that  before  he 
dies.  It's  like  enough.  Well !  After  a  time,  and  provided  I 
lost  nothing  by  it,  I  don't  see  why  that  religion  shouldn't  suit 
me  as  well  as  any  other.  There  are  rich  men  among  the 
Jews;  shaving  is  very  troublesome; — yes,  it  would  suit  me 
well  enough.  For  the  present,  though,  we  must  be  Christian 
to  the  core.  Our  prophetic  motto  will  suit  all  creeds  in  their 
turn,  that's  a  comfort."  Reflecting  on  this  source  of  conso- 
lation, he  reached  the  sitting-room,  and  rang  the  bell  for 
breakfast. 

Lord  George  was  quickly  dressed  (for  his  plain  toilet  was 
easily  made),  and  as  he  was  no  less  frugal  in  his  repasts  than 
in    his    Puritan    attire,   his    share   of    the    meal  was    soon 

VOL.    I. 


322  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

despatched.  The  secretary,  however,  more  devoted  to  the 
good  things  of  this  world,  or  more  intent  on  sustaining  his 
strength  and  spirits  for  the  sake  of  the  Protestant  cause,  ate 
and  drank  to  the  hist  minute,  and  required  indeed  some  three 
or  four  reminders  from  John  Grueby,  before  he  could  resolve 
to  tear  himself  away  from  Mr.  Willet's  plentiful  providing. 

At  length  he  came  down-stairs,  wi})ing  his  greasy  mouth, 
and  having  paid  John  Willet's  bill,  climbed  into  his  saddle. 
Lord  George,  who  had  been  walking  up  and  down  before  the 
house  talking  to  himself  with  earnest  gestures,  mounted  his 
horse  ;  and  returning  old  John  Willet's  stately  bow  as  well  as 
the  parting  salutation  of  a  dozen  idlers  whom  the  rumor  of  a 
live  lord  being  about  to  leave  the  Maypole  had  gathered  round 
the  porch,  they  rode  away,  with  stout  John  Grueby  in  the  rear. 

If  Lord  George  Gordon  had  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  Mr. 
Willet,  overnight,  a  nobleman  of  somewhat  quaint  and  odd 
exterior,  the  impression  was  confirmed  this  morning,  and 
increased  a  hundred-fold.  Sitting  bolt  upright  upon  his  bony 
steed,  with  his  long,  straight  hair,  dangling  about  his  face  and 
fluttering  in  the  wind  :  his  limbs  all  angular  and  rigid,  his 
elbows  stuck  out  on  either  side  ungracefully,  and  his  whole 
frame  jogged  and  shaken  at  every  motion  of  his  horse's  feet ; 
a  more  grotesque  or  more  ungainly  figure  can  hardly  be  con- 
ceived. In  lieu  of  whip,  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  great 
gold-headed  cane,  as  large  as  any  footman  carries  in  these 
days  ;  and  his  various  modes  of  holding  this  unwieldy  weapon 

—  now  upright  before  his  face  like  the  sabre  of  a  horse-soldier, 
now  over  his  shoulder  like  a  musket,  now  between  his  finger 
and  thumb,  but  always  in  some  uncouth  and  awkward  fashion 

—  contributed  in  no  small  degree  to  the  absurdity  of  his 
appearance.  Stiff,  lank,  and  solemn,  dressed  in  an  unusual 
manner,  and  ostentatiously  exhibiting  —  whether  by  design  or 
accident  —  all  his  peculiarities  of  carriage,  gesture,  and  con- 
duct ;  all  the  qualities,  natural  and  artificial,  in  which  he 
differed  from  other  men  ;  he  might  have  moved  the  sternest 
looker-on  to  laughter,  and  fully  provoked  the  smiles  and 
whispered  jests  which  greeted  his  departure  from  the  May- 
pole inn. 

Quite  unconscious,  however,  of  the  effect  he  produced,  he 


BABNABY  BULGE.  323 

trotted  on  beside  his  secretary,  talking  to  himself  nearly  all 
the  way,  until  they  came  within  a  mile  or  two  of  London, 
when  now  and  then  some  passenger  went  by  who  knew  him 
by  sight,  and  pointed  him  out  to  some  one  else,  and  perhaps 
stood  looking  after  him,  or  cried  in  jest  or  earnest  as  it  might 
be,  '•  Hurrah  Geordie  !  Xo  Popery  ! "  At  which  he  would 
gravely  pull  off  his  hat,  and  bow.  When  they  reached  the 
town  and  rode  along  the  streets,  these  notices  became  more 
frequent ;  some  laughed,  some  hissed,  some  turned  their  heads 
and  smiled,  some  wondered  who  he  was,  some  ran  along  the 
pavement  by  his  side  and  cheered.  When  this  happened  in  a 
crush  of  carts  and  chairs  and  coaches,  he  would  make  a  dead 
stop,  and  pulling  off  his  hat,  cry,  "  Gentlemen,  No  Popery ! " 
to  which  the  gentlemen  would  respond  with  lusty  voices,  and 
with  three  times  three  ;  and  then,  on  he  would  go  again  with 
a  score  or  so  of  the  raggedest,  following  at  his  horse's  heels, 
and  shouting  till  their  throats  were  parched. 

The  old  ladies  too — there  were  a  great  many  old  ladies  in 
the  streets,  and  these  all  knew  him.  Some  of  them — not 
those  of  the  highest  rank,  but  such  as  sold  fruit  from  baskets 
and  carried  burdens  —  clapped  their  shrivelled  hands,  and 
raised  a  weazen,  piping,  shrill  "Hurrah,  my  lord!"  Others 
waved  their  hands  or  handkerchiefs,  or  shook  their  fans  or 
parasols,  or  threw  up  windows  and  called  in  haste  to  those 
within,  to  come  and  see.  All  these  marks  of  popular  esteem, 
he  received  with  profound  gravity  and  respect ;  bowing  very 
low,  and  so  frequently  that  his  hat  was  more  off  his  head  than 
on  ;  and  looking  up  at  the  houses  as  he  passed  along,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  was  making  a  public  entry,  and  yet  was 
not  puffed-up  or  proud. 

So  they  rode  (to  the  deep  and  unspeakable  disgust  of  John 
Grueby),  the  whole  length  of  Whitechapel,  Leadenhall  Street, 
and  Cheapside,  and  into  Saint  Paul's  Churchyard.  Arriving 
close  to  the  cathedral,  he  halted ;  spoke  to  Gashford ;  and 
looking  upward  at  its  lofty  dome,  shook  his  head,  as  though 
he  said  "  The  Church  in  Danger  !  "  Then  to  be  sure,  the 
by-standers  stretched  their  throats  indeed ;  and  he  went  on 
again  with  mighty  acclamations  from  the  mob,  and  lower 
bows  than   ever. 


324  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

So  along  the  Strand,  up  Swallow  Street,  into  the  Oxford 
Road,  and  thence  to  his  house  in  AVelbeck  Street,  near 
Cavendish  Square,  whither  he  was  attended  by  a  few  dozen 
idlers ;  of  whom  he  took  leave  on  the  steps  with  this  brief 
parting  '-Gentlemen,  No  Popery.  Good-day.  God  bless  you." 
This  being  rather  a  shorter  address  than  they  expected,  was 
received  with  some  displeasure,  and  cries  of  "  A  speech ! 
a  speech ! "  which  might  have  been  complied  with,  but  that 
John  Grueby,  making  a  mad  charge  upon  them  with  all  three 
horses,  on  his  way  to  the  stables,  caused  them  to  disperse  into 
the  adjoining  fields,  where  they  presently  fell  to  pitch  and 
toss,  chuckfarthing,  odd  or  even,  dog-fighting,  and  other 
Protestant  recreations. 

In  the  afternoon  Lord  George  came  forth  again,  dressed  in 
a  black  velvet  coat,  and  trousers  and  waistcoat  of  the  Gordon 
plaid,  all  of  the  same  Quaker  cut ;  and  in  this  costume,  which 
made  him  look  a  dozen  times  more  strange  and  singular  than 
before,  went  down  on  foot  to  Westminster.  Gashford,  mean 
while,  bestirred  himself  in  business  matters  ;  with  which  he 
was  still  engaged  when  shortly  after  dusk,  John  Grueby 
entered  and  announced  a  visitor. 
"  Let  him  come  in,"  said  Gashford. 

"  Here  !  come  in  !  "  growled  John  to  somebody  without ; 
"  You're  a  Protestant,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"/should  think  so,"  replied  a  deep,  gruff  voice. 
"You've  the  looks  of   it,"  said  John  Gruebj^     "I'd  have 
known  you  for  one  anywhere."     With  which  remark  he  gave 
the  visitor  admission,  retired,  and  shut  the  door. 

The  man  who  now  confronted  Gashford,  was  a  squat,  thick- 
set personage,  with  a  low  retreating  forehead,  a  coarse  shock 
head  of  hair,  and  eyes  so  small  and  near  together,  that  his 
broken  nose  alone  seemed  to  prevent  their  meeting  and  fusing 
into  one  of  the  usual  size.  A  dingy  handkerchief  twisted  like 
a  cord  about  his  neck,  left  its  great  veins  exposed  to  view,  and 
they  were  swollen  and  starting,  as  though  with  gulping  down 
strong  passions,  malice,  and  ill-will.  His  dress  was  of  thread- 
bare velveteen  —  a  faded,  rusty,  whitened  black,  like  the  ashes 
of  a  pipe  or  a  coal  fire  after  a  day's  extinction;  discolored 
with  the  soils  of  many  a  stale  debauch,  and  reeking  yet  with 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  32o 

pot-house  odors.  In  lieu  of  buckles  at  his  knees,  he  wore 
unequal  loops  of  packthread  ;  and  in  his  grimy  hands  he  held 
a  knotted  stick,  the  knob  of  which  was  carved  into  a  rough 
likeness  of  his  own  vile  face.  Such  was  the  visitor  who  doffed 
his  three-cornered  hat  in  Gashford's  presence,  and  waited, 
leering,  for  his  notice. 

"  Ah  !  Dennis  !  "  cried  the  secretary.     "  Sit  down." 

"I  see  my  lord  down  yonder  "  —  cried  the  man,  with  a  jerk 
of  his  thumb  towards  the  quarter  that  he  spoke  of,  "and 
he  says  to  me,  says  my  lord,  'If  you've  nothing  to  do, 
Dennis,  go  up  to  my  house  and  talk  with  Muster  Gashford.' 
Of  course  I'd  nothing  to  do,  you .  know.  These  ain't  my 
working  hours.  Ha  ha  !  I  was  a-taking  the  air  when  I  see 
my  lord,  that's  what  I  was  doing.  I  takes  the  air  by  night,  as 
the  howls  does,  Muster  Gashford." 

"  And  sometimes  in  the  daytime,  eh  ?  "  said  the  secretary  — 
"  when  you  go  out  in  state  you  know." 

"  Ha  ha  !  "  roared  the  fellow,  smiting  his  leg ;  "  for  a  gentle- 
man as  'ull  say  a  pleasant  thing  in  a  pleasant  way,  give  me 
Muster  Gashford  agin'  all  London  and  "Westminster  !  My 
lord  ain't  a  bad  'un  at  that,  but  he's  a  fool  to  you.  Ah  to  be 
sure,  —  when  I  go  out  in  state. '^ 

"  And  have  your  carriage,"  said  the  secretary ;  "  and  your 
chaplain,  eh  ?  and  all  the  rest  of  it  ?  " 

"You'll  be  the  death  of  me,"  cried  Dennis,  with  another 
roar,  "  you  will.  But  what's  in  the  wind  now,  Muster  Gash- 
ford," he  asked  hoarsely,  "  Eh  ?  Are  we  to  be  under  orders 
to  pull  down  one  of  them  Popish  chapels  —  or  what  ?  " 

"  Hush  ! "  said  the  secretary,  suffering  the  faintest  smile  to 
play  upon  his  face.  "  Hush  !  God  bless  me,  Dennis  !  We 
associate,  you  know,  for  strictly  peaceable  and  lawful  pur- 
poses." 

"/  know,  bless  you,"  returned  the  man,  thrusting  his 
tongue  into  his  cheek ;  "  I  entered  a'  purpose  didn't  I ! " 

"No  doubt,"  said  Gashford,  smiling  as  before.  And  when 
he  said  so,  Dennis  roared  again,  and  smote  his  leg  still 
harder,  and  falling  into  fits  of  laughter,  wiped  his  eyes  with 
the  corner  of  his  neckerchief,  and  cried  "Muster  Gasliford 
agin'  all  England  hollow  !  " 


326  BAKNABY  BUDGE. 

''  Lord  George  and  I  were  talking  of  you  last  night,"  said 
Gashford,  after  a  pause.  ''  He  says  you  are  a  very  earnest 
fellow." 

"  So  I  am,"  returned  the  hangman. 

"  And  that  you  truly  hate  the  Papists." 

"So  I  do,"  and  he  confirmed  it  with  a  good  round  oath. 
"  Lookye  here,  Muster  Gashford,"  said  the  fellow,  laying  his 
hat  and  stick  upon  the  floor,  and  slowly  beating  the  palm  of 
one  hand  with  the  fingers  of  the  other ;  "  Ob-serve.  I'm  a 
constitutional  officer  that  works  for  my  living,  and  does  my 
work  creditable.     Do  I,  or  do  I  not  ?  " 

"  Unquestionably." 

"  Very  good.  Stop  a  minute.  My  work,  is  sound,  Protes- 
tant, constitutional,  English  work.     Is  it,  or  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Ko  man  alive  can  doubt  it." 

"  Nor  dead  neither.  Parliament  says  this  here  —  says  Par- 
liament '  If  any  man,  woman,  or  child  does  anything  which 
goes  again  a  certain  number  of  our  acts'  —  how  many  hanging 
laws  may  there  be  at  this  present  time.  Muster  Gashford  ? 
Fifty  ?  " 

"I  don't  exactly  know  how  many,"  replied  Gashford, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  yawning;  "a  great  number 
though." 

"  Well ;  say  fifty.  Parliament  says  '  If  any  man,  woman, 
or  child  does  anything  again  any  one  of  them  fifty  acts,  that 
man,  woman,  or  child  shall  be  worked  off  by  Dennis.'  George 
the  Third  steps  in  when  they  number  very  strong  at  the  end 
of  a  sessions,  and  says  '  These  are  too  many  for  Dennis.  I'll 
have  half  for  mi/seli  and  Dennis  shall  have  half  for  hijyiseli;' 
and  sometimes  he  throws  me  one  over  that  I  don't  expect, 
as  he  did  three  years  ago,  when  I  got  Mary  Jones,  a  young 
woman  of  nineteen  who  come  up  to  Tj^burn  with  a  infant 
at  her  breast,  and  was  worked  off  for  taking  a  piece  of  cloth 
off  the  counter  of  a  shop  in  Ludgate  hill,  and  putting  it  down 
again  when  the  shopman  see  her ;  and  who  had  never  done 
any  harm  before,  and  only  tried  to  do  that,  in  consequence  of 
her  husband  having  been  pressed  three  weeks  previous,  and 
she  being  left  to  beg,  with  two  young  children  —  as  was 
proved  upon  the  trial.     Ha  ha !  —  Well !     That  being  the  law 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  327 

and  the  practice  of  England,  is  the  glory  of  England,  ain't  it, 
Muster  Gashford  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  secretary. 

''And  in  times  to  come,"  pursued  the  hangman,  "if  our 
grandsons  should  think  of  their  grandfathers'  times,  and  find 
these  things  altered,  they'll  say  '  Those  were  days  indeed, 
and  we've  been  going  down-hill  ever  since.'  —  Won't  they, 
Muster  Gashford  ?  " 

"I  have  no  doubt  they  will,"  said  the  secretary. 

"Well  then,  look  here,"  said  the  hangman.  "If  these 
Papists  gets  into  power,  and  begins  to  boil  and  roast  instead 
of  hang,  what  becomes  of  my  work !  If  they  touch  my  work 
that's  a  part  of  so  many  laws,  what  becomes  of  the  laws  in 
general,  what  becomes  of  the  religion,  what  becomes  of  the 
country  !  —  Did  you  ever  go  to  church,  Muster  Gashford  ?  '^ 

"  Ever  !  "  repeated  the  secretary  with  some  indignation, 
"  of  course." 

"Well,"  said  the  ruffian,  " I've  been  once  —  twice,  counting 
the  time  I  was  christeqed  —  and  when  I  heard  the  Parliament 
prayed  for,  and  thought  how  many  new  hanging  laws  they 
made  every  sessions  I  considered  that  /was  prayed  for.  Now 
mind.  Muster  Gashford,"  said  the  fellow,  taking  up  his  stick 
and  shaking  it  with  a  ferocious  air,  "  I  mustn't  have  my  Prot- 
estant work  touched,  nor  this  here  Protestant  state  of  things 
altered  in  no  degree,  if  I  can  help  it ;  I  mustn't  have  no 
Papists  interfering  with  me,  unless  they  come  to  me  to  be 
worked  off  in  course  of  law ;  I  mustn't  have  no  biling,  no 
roasting,  no  frying  —  nothing  but  hanging.  My  lord  may 
well  call  me  an  earnest  fellow.  In  support  of  the  great  Prot- 
estant principle  of  having  plenty  of  that,  I'll,"  and  here  he 
beat  his  club  upon  the  ground,  "burn,  fight,  kill  —  do  any- 
thing you  bid  me,  so  that  it's  bold  and  devilish  —  though  the 
end  of  it  was,  that  I  got  hung  myself.  — There,  Muster  Gash- 
ford ! " 

He  appropriately  followed  up  this  frequent  i)rostitution  of 
a  noble  word  to  the  vilest  purposes,  by  pouring  out  in  a  kind 
of  ecstasy,  at  least  a  score  of  most  tremendous  oaths ;  then 
wiped  his  heated  face  upon  his  neckerchief,  and  cried,  "No 
Popery  !     I'm  a  religious  man,  by  G !" 


32S  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

Gashford  had  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  regarding  him  with 
eyes  so  sunken,  and  so  shadowed  by  his  heavy  brows,  that  for 
aught  the  liangman  saw  of  them,  he  might  have  been  stone 
blind.  He  remained  smiling  in  silence  for  a  short  time 
longer,  and  then  said,  slowly  and  distinctly,  — 

^'  You  are  indeed  an  earnest  fellow,  Dennis  —  a  most  valu- 
able fellow  —  the  stanchest  man  I  know  of  in  our  ranks. 
But  you  must  calm  yourself ;  you  must  be  peaceful,  lawful, 
mild  as 'any  lamb.     I  am  sure  you  will  be  though." 

"Ay,  ay,  we  shall  see,  Muster  Gashford,  we  shall  see. 
You  won't  have  to  complain  of  me,"  returned  the  other, 
shaking  his  head. 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  not,"  said  the  secretary  in  the  same 
mild  tone,  and  with  the  same  emphasis.  "  We  shall  have,  we 
think,  about  next  month  or  ^lay,  when  this  Papist  relief  bill 
comes  before  the  house,  to  convene  our  whole  body  for  the 
first  time.  My  lord  has  thoughts  of  our  walking  in  proces- 
sion through  the  streets  —  just  as  an  innocent  display  of 
strength  —  and  accompanying  our  petition  down  to  the  door 
of  the  House  of  Commons." 

"The  sooner  the  better,"  said  Dennis,  with  another  oath. 

"  We  shall  have  to  draw  up  in  divisions,  our  numbers  being 
so  large  ;  and,  I  believe  I  may  venture  to  say,"  resumed 
Gashford,  affecting  not  to  hear  the  interruption,  "though  I 
have  no  direct  instructions  to  that  effect  —  that  Lord  George 
has  thought  of  you  as  an  excellent  leader  for  one  of  these 
parties.  I  have  no  doubt  you  would  be  an  admirable 
one." 

"  Try  me,"  said  the  fellow,  with  an  ugly  wink. 

"  You  would  be  cool,  I  know,"  pursued  the  secretary,  still 
smiling,  and  still  managing  his  eyes,  so  that  he  could  watch 
him  closely,  and  really  not  be  seen  in  turn,  "obedient  to 
orders,  and  perfectly  temperate.  You  would  lead  your  party 
into  no  danger  I  am  certain." 

"I'd  lead  them.  Muster  Gashford"  —  the  hangman  was 
beginning  in  a  reckless  way,  when  Gashford  started  forward, 
laid  his  finger  on  his  lips,  and  feigned  to  write,  just  as  the 
door  was  opened  by  John  Grueby. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  John,  lookintr  in  :  "  here's  another  Protestant." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  329 

''Some  other  room,  John/"'  cried  Gashford  in  his  blandest 
voice.     "I  am  engaged  just  now." 

But  John  had  brought  this  new  visitor  to  the  door,  and  he 
walked  in  unbidden,  as  the  words  were  uttered  ;  giving  to 
view  the  form  and  features,  rough  attire,  and  reckless  air,  of 
Hugh. 


330  BARNABY  BULGE. 


CHAPTEE   XXXVIII. 

The  secretary  put  his  hand  before  his  eyes  to  shade  them 
from  the  glare  of  the  lamp,  and  for  some  moments  looked  at 
Hugh  with  a  frowning  brow,  as  if  he  remembered  to  have 
seen  him  lately,  but  could  not  call  to  mind  where,  or  on 
what  occasion.  His  uncertainty  was  very  brief,  for  before 
Hugh  had  spoken  a  word,  he  said,  as  his  countenance  cleared 
up,— 

"  Ay,  ay,  I  recollect.  It's  quite  right,  John,  you  needn't 
wait.     Don't  go,  Dennis." 

"  Your  servant,  master,"  said  Hugh,  as  Grueby  disappeared. 

"  Yours  friend,"  returned  the  secretary  in  his  smoothest 
manner.  "  What  brings  you  here  ?  We  left  nothing  behind 
us,  I  hope  ?  " 

Hugh  gave  a  short  laugh,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  his 
breast,  produced  one  of  the  handbills,  soiled  and  dirty  from 
lying  out  of  doors  all  night,  which  he  laid  upon  the  secretary's 
desk  after  flattening  it  upon  his  knee,  and  smoothing  out  the 
wrinkles  with  his  heavy  palm. 

"Nothing  but  that,  master.  It  fell  into  good  hands,  you 
see." 

"What  is  this!"  said  Gashford,  turning  it  over  with  an 
air  of  perfectly  natural  surprise.  "'  Where  did  you  get  it 
from,  my  good  fellow ;  what  does  it  mean  ?  I  don't  under- 
stand this  at  all." 

A  little  disconcerted  hj  this  reception,  Hugh  looked  from 
the  secretary  to  Dennis,  who  had  risen  and  was  standing  at 
the  table  too,  observing  the  stranger  by  stealth,  and  seeming 
to  derive  the  utmost  satisfaction  from  his  manners  and 
appearance.  Considering  himself  silently  appealed  to  by  this 
action,  Mr.  Dennis  shook  his  head  thrice,  as  if  to  say  of 
Gashford,  "  No.  He  don't  know  anything  at  all  about  it.  I 
know  he  don't.     I'll  take  my  oath  he  don't ;  "  and  hiding  his 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  331 

profile  from  Hugh  with  one  long  end  of  his  frowsy  neckerchief, 
nodded  and  chuckled  behind  this  screen  ii*  extreme  approval 
of  the  secretary's  proceedings. 

"  It  tells  the  man  that  finds  it  to  come  here,  don't  it  ? " 
asked  Hugh.  ''  I'm  no  scholar,  myself,  but  I  showed  it  to  a 
friend,  and  he  said  it  did." 

"  It  certainly  does,"  said  Gashford,  opening  his  eyes  to 
their  utmost  width  ;  ''  really  this  is  the  most  remarkable  cir- 
cumstance I  have  ever  known.  How  did  you  come  by  this 
piece  of  paper,  my  good  friend  ?  " 

'•  Muster  Gashford,"  wheezed  the  hangman  under  his  breath, 
'-  agin'  all  Xewgate  !  " 

Whether  Hugh  heard  him,  or  saw  by  his  manner  that 
he  was  being  played  upon,  or  perceived  the  secretary's 
drift  of  himself,  he  came  in  his  blunt  way  to  the  point  at 
once. 

"  Here  !  "  he  said,  stretching  out  his  hand  and  taking  it 
back  ;  "nevermind  the  bill,  or  what  it  says,  or  what  it  don't 
say.  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,  master,  —  no  more 
do  I,  —  no  more  does  he,"  glancing  at  Dennis.  "  Xone  of  us 
know  what  it  means,  or  where  it  comes  from  :  there's  an  end 
of  that.  Xow  I  want  to  make  one  against  the  Catholics,  I'm 
a  Xo-Popery  man,  and  ready  to  be  sworn  in.  That's  what 
I've  come  here  for." 

"  Put  him  down  on  the  roll.  Muster  Gashford,"  said  Dennis 
approvingly.  "  That's  tlie  way  to  go  to  work  —  right  to  the 
end  at  once,  and  no  palaver." 

"  What's  the  use  of  shooting  wide  of  the  mark,  eh,  old 
boy  !  "  cried  Hugh. 

"  My  sentiments  all  over  !  "  rejoined  the  hangman.  "  This 
is  the  sort  of  chap  for  m}-  division,  Cluster  Gashford.  Down 
with  him,  sir.  Put  him  on  the  roll.  I'd  stand  godfather  to 
him,  if  he  was  to  be  christened  in  a  bonfire,  made  of  the  ruins 
of  the  Bank  of  England." 

With  these  and  other  expressions  of  confidence  of  the  like 
flattering  kind,  Mr.  Dennis  gave  him  a  hearty  slap  on  the 
back,  which  Hugh  was  not  slow  to  return. 

"No  Popery,  brother  !"  cried  the  hangman. 

"  No  Property,  brother  !  "  responded  Hugh. 


332  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

"Popery,  Popery,"  said  the  secretary  with  his  usual 
mildness. 

"  It's  all  the  same ! "  cried  Dennis.  "  It's  all  right. 
Down  with  him,  Muster  Gashford.  Down  with  everybody, 
down  with  everything  !  Hurrah  for  the  Protestant  religion  ! 
That's  the  time  of  day,  IMuster  Gashford  ! " 

Tlie  secretary  regarded  them  both  with  a  very  favorable 
expression  of  countenance,  while  they  gave  loose  to  these  and 
other  demonstrations  of  their  patriotic  purpose ;  and  was 
about  to  make  some  remark  aloud,  when  Dennis,  stepping  up 
to  him,  and  shading  his  mouth  with  his  hand,  said,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper,  as  he  nudged  him  with  his  elbow,  — 

"  Don't  split  upon  a  constitutional  officer's  profession, 
Muster  Gashford.  There  are  popular  prejudices,  you  know, 
and  he  miglitn't  like  it.  Wait  till  he  comes  to  be  more  intimate 
with  me.     He's  a  fine-built  chap,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"  A  powerful  fellow  indeed  !  " 

"  Did  you  ever,  jNIuster  Gashford,"  whispered  Dennis,  with 
a  horrible  kind  of  admiration,  such  as  that  with  which  a 
cannibal  might  regard  his  intimate  friend,  when  hungry,  — 
"  did  you  ever  "  —  and  here  he  drew  still  closer  to  his  ear,  and 
fenced  his  mouth  with  both  his  open  hands  — "  see  such  a 
throat  as  his  ?  Do  but  cast  your  eye  upon  it.  There's  a 
neck  for  stretching.  Muster  Gashford  !  " 

The  secretary  assented  to  this  proposition  with  the  best 
grace  he  could  assume  —  it  is  difficult  to  feign  a  true  pro- 
fessional relish:  which  is  eccentric  sometimes  —  and  after 
asking  the  candidate  a  few  unimportant  questions,  proceeded 
to  enroll  him  a  member  of  the  Great  Protestant  Association  of 
England.  If  anything  could  have  exceeded  Mr.  Dennis's  joy 
on  the  happy  conclusion  of  this  ceremony,  it  would  have  been 
the  rapture  with  which  he  received  the  announcement  that  the 
new  member  could  neither  read  nor  write  :  those  two  arts  being 
(as  Mr.  Dennis  swore)  the  greatest  possible  curse  a  civilized 
community  could  know,  and  militating  more  against  the  pro- 
fessional emoluments  and  usefulness  of  the  great  constitutional 
office  he  had  the  honor  to  hold,  than  any  adverse  circumstances 
that  could  present  themselves  to  his  imagination. 

The   enrolment  being   completed,  and  Hugh  having  been 


BAUNABY  BUDGE.  333 

informed  by  Gashford,  in  his  peculiar  manner,  of  the  peaceful 
and  strictly  lawful  objects  contemplated  by  the  body  to  which 
he  now  belonged  —  during  which  recital  Mr.  Dennis  nudged 
him  very  much  with  his  elbow,  and  made  divers  remarkable 
faces  —  the  secretary  gave  them  both  to  understand  that  he 
desired  to  be  alone.  Therefore  they  took  their  leaves  without 
delay,  and  came  out  of  the  house  together. 

"  Are  you  walking,  brother  ?  "  said  Dennis. 

"  Ay  !  ■'  returned  Hugh.     "  Where  you  will." 

"  That's  social,''  said  his  new  friend.  "  Which  way  shall 
we  take  ?  Shall  we  go  and  have  a  look  at  doors  that  we 
shall  make  a  pretty  good  clattering  at,  before  long — eh, 
brother  ?  " 

Hugh  answered  in  the  affirmative,  they  went  slowly  down 
to  Westminster,  where  both  houses  of  Parliament  were  then 
sitting.  jMingling  in  the  crowd  of  carriages,  horses,  servants, 
chairmen,  link-boys,  porters,  and  idlers  of  all  kinds,  they 
lounged  about ;  while  Hugh's  new  friend  pointed  out  to  him 
significantly  the  weak  parts  of  the  building,  how  easy  it  was 
to  get  into  the  lobby,  and  so  to  the  very  door  of  the  House  of 
Commons ;  and  how  plainly,  when  they  marched  down  there 
in  grand  array,  their  roars  and  shouts  would  be  heard  by  the 
members  inside ;  with  a  great  deal  more  to  the  same  purpose, 
all  of  which  Hugh  received  with  manifest  delight. 

He  told  him,  too,  who  some  of  the  Lords  and  Commons 
were,  by  name,  as  they  came  in  and  out ;  whether  they  were 
friendly  to  the  Papists  or  otherwise ;  and  bade  him  take 
notice  of  their  liveries  and  equipages,  that  he  might  be  sure 
of  them  in  case  of  need.  Sometimes  he  drew  him  close  to 
the  windows  of  a  passing  carriage,  that  he  might  see  its 
master's  face  by  the  light  of  the  lamps  ;  and,  both  in  respect 
of  people  and  localities,  he  showed  so  much  acquaintance 
with  everytliing  around,  that  it  was  plain  he  had  often  studied 
tliere  before  ;  as  indeed,  when  they  grew  a  little  more  con- 
fidential, he  confessed  he  had. 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  part  of  all  this  was,  the  number 
of  people  —  never  in  groups  of  more  than  two  or  three 
together  —  who  seemed  to  be  skulking  about  the  crowd  for 
the    same    purpose.     To  the  greater   part    of  these,  a    slight 


334  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

nod  or  a  look  from  Hugli's  companion  was  sufficient  greeting ; 
but,  now  and  then,  some  man  would  come  and  stand  beside 
him  in  the  throng,  and,  without  turning  his  head  or  appear- 
ing to  communicate  with  him,  would  say  a  word  or  two  in  a 
low  voice,  which  he  would  answer  in  the  same  cautious 
manner.  Then  they  would  part,  like  strangers.  Some  of 
these  men  often  reappeared  again  unexpectedly  in  the  crowd 
close  to  Hugh,  and,  as  they  passed  by,  pressed  his  hand,  or 
looked  him  sternly  in  the  face ;  but  they  never  spoke  to  him, 
nor  he  to  them ;  no,  not  a  word. 

It  was  remarkable,  too,  that  whenever  they  happened  to 
stand  where  there  was  any  press  of  people,  and  Hugh  chanced 
to  be  looking  downward,  he  was  sure  to  see  an  arm  stretched 
out — under  his  own  perhaps,  or  perhaps  across  him  —  which 
thrust  some  paper  into  the  hand  or  pocket  of  a  b3^-stander,  and 
was  so  suddenly  withdrawn  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
from  whom  it  came ;  nor  could  he  see  in  any  face,  on  glan- 
cing quickly  round,  the  least  confusion  or  surprise.  They 
often  trod  upon  a  paper  like  the  one  he  carried  in  his  breast, 
but  his  companion  whispered  him  not  to  touch  it  or  to  take 
it  up,  —  not  even  to  look  towards  it,  — so  there  they  let  them 
lie,  and  passed  on. 

When  they  had  paraded  the  street  and  all  the  avenues  of 
the  building  in  this  manner  for  near  two  hours,  they  turned 
away,  and  his  friend  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  what  he 
had  seen,  and  whether  he  was  prepared  for  a  good  hot  piece 
of  work  if  it  should  come  to  that.  "  The  hotter  the  better," 
said  Hugh,  "I'm  prepared  for  anything.'- — "So  am  I,"  said 
his  friend,  "  and  so  are  many  of  us  ; "  and  they  shook  hands 
upon  it  with  a  great  oath,  and  with  many  terrible  imprecations 
on  the  Papists. 

As  they  were  thirsty  by  this  time,  Dennis  proposed  that 
they  should  repair  together  to  Tlie  Boot,  where  there  was 
good  company  and  strong  liquor.  Hugh  yielding  a  ready 
assent,  they  bent  their  steps  that  way  with  no  loss  of 
time. 

This  Boot  was  a  lone  house  of  public  entertainment,  situated 
in  the  fields  at  the  back  of  the  Foundling  Hospital  —  a  very 
solitary  spot  at  that  period,  and  quite  deserted  after  dark. 


\    i 


?^^a-«.gi4.t 


BAliNABY  BULGE.  335 

The  tavern  stood  at  some  distance  from  any  high  road,  and 
was  approachable  only  by  a  dark  and  narrow  lane ;  so  that 
Hugh  was  much  surprised  to  find  several  people  drinking 
there,  and  great  merriment  going  on.  He  was  still  more 
surprised  to  find  among  them  almost  every  face  that  had 
caught  his  attention  in  the  crowd ;  but  his  companion  having 
whispered  him  outside  the  door,  that  it  was  not  considered 
good  manners  at  The  Boot  to  appear  at  all  curious  about  the 
company,  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  made  no  show  of 
recognition. 

Before  putting  his  lips  to  the  liquor  which  was  brought  for 
them,  Dennis  drank  in  a  loud  voice  the  health  of  Lord  George 
Gordon,  President  of  the  Great  Protestant  Association ;  which 
toast  Hugh  pledged  likewise,  with  corresponding  enthusiasm. 
A  fiddler  who  was  present,  and  who  appeared  to  act  as  the 
appointed  minstrel  of  the  company,  forthwith  struck  up  a 
Scotch  reel;  and  that  in  tones  so  invigorating,  that  Hugh 
and  his  friend  (who  had  both  been  drinking  before)  rose  from 
their  seats  as  by  previous  concert,  and  to  the  great  admiration 
of  the  assembled  guests,  performed  an  extemporaneous  No- 
Popery  Dance. 


336  BABNABY  BUDGE, 


CHAPTEE   XXXIX. 

The  applause  which  the  performance  of  Hugh  and  his 
new  friend  elicited  from  the  company  at  The  Boot,  had  not 
yet  subsided,  and  the  two  dancers  were  still  panting  from 
their  exertions,  which  had  been  of  a  rather  extreme  and 
violent  character,  when  the  party  was  re-enforced  by  the 
arrival  of  some  more  guests,  who,  being  a-  detachment  of 
United  Bulldogs,  were  received  with  very  flattering  marks  of 
distinction  and  respect. 

The  leader  of  this  small  party  —  for,  including  himself,  they 
were  but  three  in  number  —  was  our  old  acquaintance,  Mr 
Tappertit,  who  seemed,  physically  speaking,  to  have  grown 
smaller  with  years  (particularly  as  to  his  legs,  which  were 
stupendously  little),  but  who,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  in 
personal  dignity  and  self-esteem,  had  swelled  into  a  giant. 
Kor  was  it  by  any  means  difficult  for  the  most  unobservant 
person  to  detect  this  state  of  feeling  in  the  quondam  'Prentice, 
for  it  not  only  proclaimed  itself  impressively  and  beyond 
mistake  in  his  majestic  walk  and  kindling  eye,  but  found  a 
striking  means  of  revelation  in  his  turned-up  nose,  which 
scouted  all  things  of  earth  with  deep  disdain,  and  sought 
communion  with  its  kindred  skies. 

Mr.  Tappertit,  as  chief  or  captain  of  the  Bulldogs,  was 
attended  by  his  two  lieutenants ;  one,  the  tall  comrade  of  his 
younger  life ;  the  other,  a  'Prentice  Knight  in  days  of  yore  — 
Mark  Gilbert,  bound  in  the  olden  time  to  Thomas  Curzon  of 
the  Golden  Fleece.  These  gentlemen,  like  himself,  were  now 
emancipated  from  their  'Prentice  thraldom,  and  served  as 
journeymen ;  but  they  were,  in  humble  emulation  of  his  great 
example,  bold  and  daring  spirits,  and  aspired  to  a  distin- 
guished state  in  great  political  events.  Hence  their  con- 
nection with  the  Protestant  Association  of  England,  sane- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  337 

tioned  by  the  name  of  Lord  George  Gordon;  and  hence 
their  present  visit  to  The  Boot. 

'^  Gentlemen ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  taking  off  his  hat  as  a 
great  general  might  in  addressing  his  troops.  "Well  met. 
My  lord  does  me  and  you  the  honor  to  send  his  compliinents 
per  self." 

"  You've  seen  my  lord  too,  have  you  ?  "  said  Dennis.  "  / 
see  him  this  afternoon." 

"  My  duty  called  me  to  the  Lobby  when  our  shop  shut  up  ; 
and  I  saw  him  there,  sir,"  Mr.  Tappertit  replied,  as  he  and 
his  lieutenants  took  their  seats.     "  How  do  jjou  do  ?  " 

"  Lively,  master,  lively,"  said  the  fellow.  "  Here's  a  new 
brother,  regularly  put  down  in  black  and  white  by  Muster 
Gashford ;  a  credit  to  the  cause ;  one  of  the  stick-at-nothing 
sort ;  one  arter  my  own  heart.  D'y^  see  him  ?  Has  he  got 
the  looks  of  a  man  that'll  do,  do  you  think  ?  "  he  cried,  as 
he  slapped  Hugh  on  the  back. 

"  Looks  or  no  looks,"  said  Hugh,  with  a  drunken  flourish 
of  his  arm,  "  I'm  the  man  you  w^ant.  I  hate  the  Papists, 
every  one  of  'em.  They  hate  me  and  I  hate  them.  They  do 
me  all  the  harm  they  can,  and  I'll  do  them  all  the  harm  / 
can.     Hurrah  ! " 

"  Was  there  ever,"  said  Dennis,  looking  round  the  room, 
when  the  echo  of  his  boisterous  voice  had  died  away ;  '^  was 
there  ever  such  a  game  boy  !  Why,  I  mean  to  say,  brothers, 
that  if  Muster  Gashford  had  gone  a  hundred  mile  and  got 
together  fifty  men  of  the  common  run,  tliey  wouldn't  have 
been  worth  this  one." 

The  greater  part  of  the  company  implicitly  subscribed  to 
this  opinion,  and  testified  their  faith  in  Hugh,  by  nods  and 
looks  of  great  significance.  Mr.  Tappertit  sat  and  contem- 
plated him  for  a  long  time  in  silence,  as  if  he  suspended  his 
judgment ;  then  drew  a  little  nearer  to  him,  and  eyed  him 
over  more  carefully ;  then  went  close  up  to  him,  and  took  him 
apart  into  a  dark  corner. 

"  I  say,"  he  began,  with  a  thoughtful  brow,  "  haven't  I  seen 
you  before  ?  " 

"It's  like  you  may,"  said  Hugh,  in  his  careless  way.  "I 
don't  know  ;  shouldn't  wonder." 


338  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"No,  but  it's  very  easily  settled,"  returned  Sim.  "Look 
at  me.  Did  you  ever  see  me  before  ?  You  wouldn't  be  likely 
to  forget  it,  you  know,  if  you  ever  did.  Look  at  me.  Don't 
be  afraid ;  I  won't  do  you  any  harm.  Take  a  good  look  — 
steady  now." 

The  encouraging  way  in  which  Mr.  Tappertit  made  this 
request,  and  coupled  it  with  an  assurance  that  he  needn't  be 
frightened,  amused  Hugh  mightily  —  so  much  indeed,  that  he 
saw  nothing  at  all  of  the  small  man  before  him,  through 
closing  his  eyes  in  a  fit  of  hearty  laughter,  which  shook  his 
great  broad  sides  until  they  ached  again. 

"'  Come  ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  growing  a  little  impatient 
under  this  disrespectful  treatment.  "Do  you  know  me, 
feller  ?  " 

"  Not  I,"  cried  Hugh.  "  Ha  ha  ha !  Not  I !  But  I  should 
like  to." 

"And  yet  I'd  have  wagered  a  seven-shilling  piece,"  said 
Mr.  Tappertit,  folding  his  arms,  and  confronting  him  with  his 
legs  wide  apart  and  firmly  planted  on  the  ground,  "'that  you 
once  were  hostler  at  the  Maypole." 

Hugh  opened  his  eyes  on  hearing  this,  and  looked  at  him 
in  great  surprise, 

"  —  And  so  you  were,  too,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  pushing 
him  away,  with  a  condescending  playfulness.  "When  did 
7717/  eyes  ever  deceive  — unless  it  was  a  young  woman  !  Don't 
you  know  me  now  ?  " 

"  Why  it  ain't "  —  Hugh  faltered. 

"Ain't  it?"  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "Are  you  sure  of  that? 
You  remember  G.  Varden,  don't  you  ?  " 

Certainly  Hugh  did,  and  he  remembered  D.  Varden  too ; 
but  that  he  didn't  tell  him. 

"You  remember  coming  down  there,  before  I  was  out  of 
my  time,  to  ask  after  a  vagabond  that  had  bolted  oif,  and  left 
his  disconsolate  father  a  prey  to  the  bitterest  emotions,  and 
all  the  rest  of  it  —  don't  you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  Of  course  I  do  !  "  cried  Hugh.     "  And  I  saw  you  there." 

"  Saw  me  there  ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  Yes,  I  should 
think  you  did  see  me  there.  The  place  would  be  troubled  to 
go   on  without  me.     Don't  you  remember  my  thinking  you 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  339 

liked  the  vagabond,  and  on  that  account  going  to  quarrel  with 
you ;  and  then  finding  you  detested  him  worse  than  poison, 
going  to  drink  with  you  ?     Don't  you  remember  that  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  !  "  cried  Hugh. 

"  Well !  and  are  you  in  the  same  mind  now  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Tappertit. 

"  Yes  !  "  roared  Hugh. 

"  You  speak  like  a  man,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  "  and  I'll 
shake  hands  with  you."  With  these  conciliatory  expressions 
he  suited  the  action  to  the  word;  and  Hugh  meeting  his 
advances  readily,  they  performed  the  ceremony  with  a  show 
of  great  heartiness. 

"  I  find,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  looking  round  on  the  assem- 
bled guests,  "that  brother  What's-his-name  and  I  are  old 
acquaintance.  —  You  never  heard  anything  more  of  that 
rascal,  I  suppose,  eh  ?  " 

"jSTot  a  syllable,"  replied  Hugh.  "I  never  want  to.  I 
don't  believe  I  ever  shall.     He's  dead  long  ago,  I  hope." 

"  It's  to  be  hoped,  for  the  sake  of  mankind  in  general  and 
the  happiness  of  society,  that  he  is,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit, 
rubbing  his  palm  upon  his  legs,  and  looking  at  it  between 
whiles.  "  Is  your  other  hand  at  all  cleaner  ?  Much  the 
same.  Well,  I'll  owe  you  another  shake.  We'll  suppose  it 
done,  if  you've  no  objection." 

Hugh  laughed  again,  and  with  such  thorough  abandon- 
ment to  his  mad  humor,  that  his  limbs  seemed  dislocated, 
and  his  whole  frame  in  danger  of  tumbling  to  pieces ;  but 
j\[r.  Tappertit,  so  far  from  receiving  this  extreme  merriment 
with  any  irritation,  was  pleased  to  regard  it  with  the  utmost 
favor,  and  even  to  join  in  it,  so  far  as  one  of  his  gravity  and 
station  could,  with  any  regard  to  that  decency  and  decorum 
which  men  in  high  places  are  expected  to  maintain. 

^Ir.  Tappertit  did  not  stop  here,  as  many  public  characters 
might  have  done,  but  calling  up  his  brace  of  lieutenants, 
introduced  Hugh  to  them  with  high  commendation  ;  declaring 
him  to  be  a  man  who,  at  such  times  as  those  in  which  they 
lived,  could  not  be  too  much  cherished.  Further,  he  did  him 
the  honor  to  remark,  that  he  would  be  an  acquisition  of 
which  even  the  United  Bulldogs  might  be  proud  ;  and  finding, 


340  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

upon  sounding  him,  that  he  was  quite  ready  and  willing  to 
enter  the  society  (for  lie  was  not  at  all  particular,  and  would 
have  leagued  himself  that  night  with  anything,  or  anybody, 
for  any  purpose  whatsoever),  caused  the  necessary  prelimi- 
naries to  be  gone  into  upon  the  spot.  This  tribute  to  his 
great  merit  delighted  no  man  more  than  Mr.  Dennis,  as  he 
himself  proclaimed  with  several  rare  and  surprising  oaths ; 
and  indeed  it  gave  unmingled  satisfaction  to  the  whole 
assembly. 

"Make  anything  you  like  of  me!"  cried  Hugh,  flourishing 
the  can  he  had  emptied  more  than  once.  "  Put  me  on  any 
duty  you  please.  I'm  your  man.  I'll  do  it.  Here's  my 
captain — here's  my  leader.  Ha  ha  ha!  Let  him  give  me 
the  word  of  command,  and  I'll  fight  the  whole  Parliament 
House  single-handed,  or  set  a  lighted  torch  to  the  King's 
Throne  itself !  "  With  that,  he  smote  Mr.  Tappertit  on  the 
back  with  such  violence  that  his  little  body  seemed  to  shrink 
into  a  mere  nothing ;  and  roared  again  until  the  very  found- 
lings near  at  hand  were  startled  in  their  beds. 

In  fact,  a  sense  of  something  whimsical  in  their  companion- 
ship seemed  to  have  taken  entire  possession  of  his  rude  brain. 
The  bare  fact  of  being  patronized  by  a  great  man  whom  he 
could  have  crushed  with  one  hand,  appeared  in  his  eyes  so 
eccentric  and  humorous,  that  a  kind  of  ferocious  merriment 
gained  the  mastery  over  him,  and  quite  subdued  his  brutal 
nature.  He  roared  and  roared  again ;  toasted  ^Ir.  Tappertit 
a  hundred  times ;  declared  himself  a  Bulldog  to  the  core ; 
and  vowed  to  be  faithful  to  him  to  the  last  drop  of  blood  in 
his  veins. 

All  these  compliments  Mr.  Tappertit  received  as  matters  of 
course  —  flattering  enough  in  their  way,  but  entirely  attrib- 
utable to  his  vast  superiority.  His  dignified  self-possession 
only  delighted  Hugh  the  more  ;  and  in  a  word,  this  giant  and 
dwarf  struck  up  a  friendship  which  bade  fair  to  be  of  long 
continuance,  as  the  one  held  it  to  be  his  right  to  command, 
and  the  other  considered  it  an  exquisite  pleasantry  to  obey. 
Nor  was  Hugh  by  any  means  a  passive  follower,  who  scrupled 
to  act  without  precise  and  definite  orders  ;  for  when  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit mounted  on  an  empty  cask  which   stood   by  way  of 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  341 

rostrum  in  the  room,  and  volunteered  a  speech  upon  the 
alarming  crisis  then  at  nand,  he  placed  himself  beside  the 
orator,  and  though  he  grinned  from  ear  to  ear  at  every  word 
he  said,  threw  out  such  expressive  hints  to  scoffers  in  the 
management  of  his  cudgel,  that  those  who  were  at  first  the 
most  disposed  to  interrupt,  became  remarkably  attentive,  and 
were  the  loudest  in  their  approbation. 

It  was  not  all  noise  and  jest,  however,  at  The  Boot,  nor 
were  the  whole  party  listeners  to  the  speech.  There  were 
some  men  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  (which  was  a  long, 
low-roofed  chamber)  in  earnest  conversation  all  the  time ;  and 
when  any  of  this  group  went  out,  fresh  people  were  sure  to 
come  in  soon  afterwards  and  sit  down  in  their  places,  as 
though  the  others  had  relieved  them  on  some  watch  or  duty ; 
which  it  was  pretty  clear  they  did,  for  these  changes  took 
place  by  the  clock,  at  intervals  of  half  an  hour.  These  per- 
sons whispered  very  much  among  themselves,  and  kept  aloof, 
and  often  looked  round,  as  jealous  of  their  speech  being 
overheard ;  some  two  or  three  among  them  entered  in  books 
what  seemed  to  be  reports  from  the  others ;  when  they  were 
not  thus  employed,  one  of  them  would  turn  to  the  newspapers 
which  were  strewn  upon  the  table,  and  from  the  St.  James's 
Chronicle,  the  Herald,  Chronicle,  or  Public  Advertiser,  would 
read  to  the  rest  in  a  low  voice  some  passage  having  reference 
to  the  topic  in  which  they  were  all  so  deeply  interested.  But 
the  great  attraction  was  a  pamphlet  called  the  Thunderer, 
which  espoused  their  own  opinions,  and  was  supposed  at  that 
time  to  emanate  directly  from  the  Association.  This  was 
always  in  request ;  and  whether  read  aloud,  to  an  eager  knot 
of  listeners,  or  by  some  solitary  man,  was  certain  to  be 
followed  by  stormy  talking  and  excited  looks. 

In  the  midst  of  all  his  merriment,  and  admiration  of  his 
captain,  Hugh  was  made  sensible  by  these  and  other  tokens, 
of  the  presence  of  an  air  of  mystery,  akin  to  that  which  had 
so  much  impressed  him  out  of  doors.  It  was  impossible  to 
discard  a  sense  that  something  serious  was  going  on,  and  that 
under  the  noisy  revel  of  the  public-house,  there  lurked  unseen 
and  dangerous  matter.  Little  affected  by  this,  liowever,  he 
was  perfectly  satisfied  witli   his   quarters,  and  would   have 


342  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

remained  there  till  morning,  but  that  his  conductor  rose  soon 
after  midnight,  to  go  home ;  Mr.  Tappertit  following  his 
example,  left  him  no  excuse  to  sta3^  So  they  all  three  left 
the  house  together  :  roaring  a  aSTo-Popery  song  until  the  fields 
resounded  with  the  dismal  noise. 

"Cheer  up,  captain! "  cried  Hugh,  when  they  had  roared 
themselves  out  of  breath,     "  Another  stave  ! '' 

Mr.  Tappertit,  nothing  loath,  began  again ;  and  so  the 
three  went  staggering  on,  arm  in  arm,  shouting  like  madmen, 
and  defying  the  watch  with  great  valor.  Indeed  this  did  not 
require  any  unusual  bravery  or  boldness,  as  the  watchmen 
of  that  time,  being  selected  for  the  office  on  account  of  exces- 
sive age  and  extraordinary  infirmity,  had  a  custom  of  shutting 
themselves  up  tight  in  their  boxes  on  the  first  symptoms  of 
disturbance,  and  remaining  there  until  they  disappeared.  In 
these  proceedings,  ^Ir.  Dennis,  who  had  a  gruff  voice  and 
lungs  of  considerable  power,  distinguished  himself  very  much, 
and  acquired  great  credit  with  his  two  companions. 

"What  a  queer  fellow  you  are!"  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 
"You're  so  precious  sly  and  close.  Why  don't  you  ever  tell 
what  trade  you're  of  ?  " 

"Answer  the  captain  instantly,"  cried  Hugh,  beating  his 
hat  down  on  his  head ;  "'  wh}'  don't  you  ever  tell  what  trade 
you're  of  ?  " 

"I'm  of  as  gen-teel  a  calling,  brother,  as  any  man  in 
England  —  as  light  a  business  as  any  gentleman  could 
desire." 

"Was  you  'prenticed  to  it?"  asked  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  No.  Natural  genius,"  said  Mr.  Dennis.  "  No  'prenticing. 
It  come  by  natur'.  ]\ruster  Gashford  knows  my  calling.  Look 
at  that  hand  of  mine  —  many  and  many  a  job  that  hand  has 
done,  with  a  neatness  and  dex-terity,  never  known  afore. 
When  I  look  at  that  hand,"  said  Mr.  Dennis,  shaking  it  in 
the  air,  "and  remember  the  helegant  bits  of  work  it  has 
turned  off,  I  feel  quite  molloncholy  to  think  it  should  ever 
grow  old  and  feeble.     But  sich  is  life  !  " 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  as  he  indulged  in  these  reflections, 
and  putting  his  fingers  with  an  absent  air  on  Hugh's  throat, 
and  particularly  under  his  left  ear,  as  if  he  were  stud^^ing  the 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  343 

anatomical  development  of  that  part  of  his  frame,  shook  his 
head  in  a  despondent  manner  and  actually  shed  tears. 

"You're  a  kind  of  artist,  I  suppose  —  eh!"  said  Mr. 
Tappertit. 

"Yes,"  rejoined  Dennis;  "yes  —  I  may  call  myself  a  artist 
—  a  fancy  workman  —  art  improves  natur'  —  that's  my  motto." 

"  And  what  do  you  call  this  ?  "  said  jMr.  Tappertit  taking 
his  stick  out  of  his  hand. 

"  That's  my  portrait  atop,"  Dennis  replied ;  "'  d'ye  think 
it's  like  ?  " 

"Why  —  it's  a  little  too  handsome,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 
"Who  did  it?     You?" 

"  I ! "  repeated  Dennis,  gazing  fondly  on  his  image.  "  I 
wish  I  had  the  talent.  That  was  carved  by  a  friend  of  mine, 
as  is  now  no  more.  The  very  day  afore  he  died,  he  cut  that 
Avith  his  pocket-knife  from  memory !  '  1*11  die  game,'  says 
my  friend,  'and  my  last  moments  shall  be  dewoted  to  making 
Dennis's  picter.'     That's  it." 

"  That  was  a  queer  fancy,  wasn't  it  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"It  was  a  queer  fancy,"  rejoined  the  other,  breathing  on 
his  fictitious  nose,  and  polishing  it  with  the  cuff  of  his  coat, 
"but  he  was  a  queer  subject  altogether  —  a  kind  of  gypsy  — 
one  of  the  finest,  stand-up  men  you  ever  see.  Ah  !  He  told 
me  some  things  that  would  startle  you  a  bit,  did  that  friend 
of  mine,  on  the  morning  when  he  died." 

"  You  were  with  him  at  the  time,  were  you  ? "  said  Mr. 
Tappertit. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  with  a  curious  look,  "'  1  was  there. 
Oh  !  yes  certainly,  I  was  there.  He  wouldn't  have  gone  off 
half  as  comfortable  without  me.  I  had  been  with  tliree  or 
four  of  his  family  under  the  same  circumstances.  They  were 
all  fine  fellows." 

"'They  must  have  been  fond  of  you,"  remarked  'Mr.  Tap- 
pertit, looking  at  him  sideways. 

"I  don't  know  that  they  was  exactly  fond  of  me,"  said 
Dennis,  with  a  little  hesitation,  "but  they  all  had  me  near 
'em  when  they  departed.  I  come  in  for  their  wardrobes,  too. 
This  very  handkercher  tliat  you  see  round  my  neck,  belonged 
to  him  that  I've  been  speaking  of  —  him  as  did  that  likeness." 


344  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

Mr.  Tappertit  glanced  at  the  article  referred  to,  and 
appeared  to  think  that  the  deceased's  ideas  of  dress  were  of 
a  peculiar  and  by  no  means  an  expensive  kind.  He  made  no 
remark  upon  the  point,  however,  and  suffered  his  mysterious 
companion  to  proceed  without  interruption. 

"  These  smalls,"  said  Dennis,  rubbing  his  legs ;  ''  these  very 
smalls  —  they  belonged  to  a  friend  of  mine  that's  left  off  sich 
incumbrances  forever :  this  coat  too  —  I've  often  walked 
behind  this  coat,  in  the  streets,  and  wondered  whether  it 
would  ever  come  to  me  :  this  pair  of  shoes  have  danced  a 
hornpipe  for  another  man,  afore  my  eyes,  full  half  a  dozen 
times  at  least :  and  as  to  my  hat,"  he  said,  taking  it  off,  and 
whirling  it  round  upon  his  fist  —  "  Lord  !  I've  seen  this  hat 
go  up  Holborn  on  the  box  of  a  hackney-coach  —  ah,  many  and 
many  a  day  !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  their  old  wearers  are  all  dead,  I 
hope  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  falling  a  little  distance  from  him, 
as  he  spoke. 

"  Every  one  of  'em,"  replied  Dennis.  "  Every  man 
Jack!" 

There  was  something  so  very  ghastly  in  this  circumstance, 
and  it  appeared  to  account,  in  such  a  very  strange  and  dismal 
manner,  for  his  faded  dress  which,  in  this  new  aspect,  seemed 
discolored  by  the  earth  from  graves  —  that  Mr.  Tappertit 
abruptly  found  he  was  going  another  way,  and,  stopping 
short,  bade  him  good-night  with  the  utmost  heartiness.  As 
they  happened  to  be  near  the  Old  Bailey,  and  Mr.  Dennis 
knew  there  were  turnkeys  in  the  lodge  with  whom  he  could 
pass  the  night,  and  discuss  professional  subjects  of  common 
interest  among  them  before  a  rousing  fire,  and  over  a  social 
glass,  he  separated  from  his  companions  without  any  great 
regret,  and  warmly  shaking  hands  with  Hugh,  and  making  an 
early  appointment  for  their  meeting  at  The  Boot,  left  them 
to  pursue  their  road. 

^'  That's  a  strange  sort  of  man,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  watch- 
ing the  hackney-coachman's  hat  as  it  went  bobbing  down  the 
street.  "I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  him.  Why  can't  he 
have  his  smalls  made  to  order,  or  wear  live  clothes  at  any 
rate  ?  " 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  345 

"  He's  a  lucky  man,  captain,"  cried  Hugh.  ^'  I  should  like 
to  have  such  friends  as  his." 

'•  I  hope  he  don't  get  'em  to  make  their  wills,  and  then 
knock  'em  on  the  head,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  musing.  "  But 
come.  The  United  B.'s  expect  me.  On !  —  What's  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  I  quite  forgot,"  said  Hugh,  who  had  started  at  the  strik- 
ing of  a  neighboring  clock.  '•  I  have  somebody  to  see  to-night 
—  I  must  turn  back  directly.  The  drinking  and  singing  put 
it  out  of  my  head.     It's  well  I  remembered  it ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit  looked  at  him  as  though  he  were  about  to 
give  utterance  to  some  very  majestic  sentiments  in  reference 
to  this  act  of  desertion,  but  as  it  was  clear,  from  Hugh's  hasty 
manner,  that  the  engagement  was  one  of  a  pressing  nature, 
he  graciously  forbore,  and  gave  him  his  permission  to  depart 
immediately,  which  Hugh  acknowledged  with  a  roar  of 
laughter. 

"  Good-night,  captain  ! "  he  cried.  '•  I  am  yours  to  the 
death,  remember !  " 

^'  Farewell  ! "  said  jVIr.  Tappertit,  waving  his  hand.  "  Be 
bold  and  vigilant !  " 

"No  Popery,  captain  !"  roared  Hugh. 

"England  in  blood  first!"  cried  his  desperate  leader. 
Whereat  Hugh  cheered  and  laughed,  and  ran  off  like  a 
greyhound. 

"  That  man  will  prove  a  credit  to  my  corps,"  said  Simon, 
turning  thoughtfully  upon  his  heel.  "  And  let  me  see.  In 
an  altered  state  of  society  —  which  must  ensue  if  we  break  out 
and  are  victorious  —  when  the  locksmith's  chikl  is  mine,  Miggs 
must  be  got  rid  of  somehow,  or  she'll  poison  the  tea-kettle 
one  evening  when  I'm  out.  He  might  marry  Miggs,  if 
he  was  drunk  enough.  It  shall  be  done.  I'll  make  a  note 
of  it." 


346  BARNABY  BULGE. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

Little  thinking  of  the  plan  for  his  happy  settlement  in 
life  which  had  suggested  itself  to  the  teeming  brain  of  his 
provident  commander,  Hugh  made  no  pause  until  Saint 
Dunstan's  giants  struck  the  hour  above  him,  when  he  worked 
the  handle  of  a  pump  which  stood  hard  by,  with  great  vigor, 
and  thrusting  his  head  under  the  spout,  let  the  water  gush 
upon  him  until  a  little  stream  ran  down  from  every  uncombed 
hair,  and  he  was  wet  to  the  waist.  Considerably  refreshed 
by  this  ablution,  both  in  mind  and  body,  and  almost  sobered 
for  the  time,  he  dried  himself  as  he  best  could ;  then  crossed 
the  road,  and  plied  the  knocker  of  the  Middle  Temple  gate. 

The  night  porter  looked  through  a  small  grating  in  the 
portal  with  a  surly  eye,  and  cried  "  Halloa ! "  which  greeting 
Hugh  returned  in  kind,  and  bade  him  open  quickly. 

"  We  don't  sell  beer  here/'  cried  the  man  ;  "  what  else  do 
you  want  ?  " 

'•  To  come  in,''  Hugh  replied,  with  a  kick  at  the  door. 

"  Where  to  go  to  ?  " 

"  Paper-Buildings." 

"  Whose  chambers  ?  " 

"Sir  John  Chester's. '^  Each  of  which  answers,  he  em- 
phasized with  another  kick. 

After  a  little  growling  on  the  other  side,  the  gate  was 
opened,  and  he  passed  in  ;  undergoing  a  close  inspection  from 
the  porter  as  he  did  so. 

"  You  wanting  Sir  John,  at  this  time  of  night!"  said  the 
man. 

"  Ay  !  "  said  Hugh.     "  I !     What  of  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  must  go  with  you  and  see  that  you  do,  for  I  don't 
believe  it." 

"  Come  along  then." 


BARNABT  RUDGE.  347 

Eying  him  with  suspicious  looks,  the  man,  ^vith  key  and 
lantern,  walked  on  at  his  side,  and  attended  him  to  Sir  John 
Chester's  door,  at  which  Hugh  gave  one  knock,  tliat  echoed 
through  the  dark  staircase  like  a  ghostly  summons,  and  made 
the  dull  light  tremble  in  the  drow^sy  lamp. 

'^  Do  you  think  he  wants  me  now  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

Before  the  man  had  time  to  answer,  a  footstep  was  heard 
within,  a  light  appeared,  and  Sir  John,  in  his  dressing-gown 
and  slippers,  opened  the  door. 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  Sir  John,"  said  the  porter  pulling  off 
his  hat.  "  Here's  a  young  man  says  he  w^ants  to  speak  to 
you.  It's  late  for  strangers.  I  thought  it  best  to  see  that  all 
was  right." 

"  Aha  !  "  cried  Sir  John,  raising  his  eyebrows.  '•  It's  you, 
messenger,  is  it  ?  Go  in.  Quite  right,  friend,  I  commend 
your  prudence  highly.  Thank  you.  God  bless  you.  Good- 
night." 

To  be  commended,  thanked,  God-blessed,  and  bade  good- 
night by  one  who  carried  "  Sir  "  before  his  name,  and  wrote 
himself  ISLP.  to  boot,  was  something  for  a  porter.  He  with- 
drew with  much  humilit}'  and  reverence.  Sir  John  followed 
his  late  visitor  into  the  dressing-room,  and  sitting  in  his  easy- 
chair  before  the  fire,  and  moving  it  so  that  he  could  see  him 
as  he  stood,  hat  in  hand,  beside  the  door,  looked  at  him  from 
head  to  foot. 

The  old  face,  calm  and  pleasant  as  ever ;  the  complexion, 
•quite  juvenile  in  its  bloom  and  clearness ;  the  same  smile  ; 
the  wonted  precision  and  elegance  of  dress  ;  the  white,  well- 
ordered  teeth ;  the  delicate  hands  ;  the  composed  and  quiet 
manner;  everything  as  it  used  to  be:  no  marks  of  age  or 
passion,  envy,  hate,  or  discontent :  all  unruffled  and  serene, 
and  quite  delightful  to  behold. 

He  wrote  himself  INI.T.  —  but  liow  ?  Why,  thus.  It  was 
a  proud  family  —  more  proud,  indeed,  tlian  wealthy.  He  had 
stood  in  danger  of  arrest ;  of  bailiffs,  and  a  jail  —  a  vulgar 
jail,  to  wliich  the  common  people  with  small  incomes  went. 
Gentlemen  of  ancient  liouses  have  no  privilege  of  exemption 
from  such  cruel  laws  —  unless  they  are  of  one  great  house,  and 
then  the}'  have.     A  proud  man  of  his  stock  and  kindrod  had 


348  SARy-ABY  BUDGE. 

the  means  of  sending  him  there.  He  offered  —  not  indeed  to 
pay  his  debts,  but  to  let  him  sit  for  a  close  borough  until  his 
own  son  came  of  age,  which,  if  he  lived,  would  come  to  pass 
in  twenty  years.  It  was  quite  as  good  as  an  Insolvent  Act, 
and  infinitely  more  genteel.  So  Sir  John  Chester  was  a 
member  of  Parliament. 

But  how  Sir  John  ?  Xothing  so  simple,  or  so  easy.  One 
touch  with  a  sword  of  state,  and  the  transformation  is  effected. 
John  Chester,  Esquire,  M.P.,  attended  court  —  went  up  wdth 
an  address  —  headed  a  deputation.  Such  elegance  of  manner, 
so  many  graces  of  deportment,  such  powers  of  conversation, 
could  never  pass  unnoticed.  Mr.  was  too  common  for  such 
merit.  A  man  so  gentlemanly  should  have  been  —  but  Fortune 
is  capricious  —  born  a  Duke  :  just  as  some  dukes  should  have 
been  born  laborers.  He  caught  the  fancy  of  the  king,  knelt 
down  a  grub,  and  rose  a  butterfl3^  John  Chester,  Esquire, 
was  knighted  and  became  Sir  John. 

"I  thought  when  you  left  me  this  evening,  my  esteemed 
acquaintance."  said  Sir  John  after  a  pretty  long  silence,  "  that 
you  intended  to  return  with  all  despatch  ?  " 

"  So  I  did,  :Master." 

"  And  so  you  have  ?  "  he  retorted,  glancing  at  his  watch. 
"  Is  that  what  you  would  say  ?  " 

Instead  of  replying,  Hugh  changed  the  leg  on  which  he 
leaned,  shuffled  his  cap  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  looked  at 
the  ground,  the  wall,  the  ceiling,  and  finally  at  Sir  John  him- 
self; before  whose  pleasant  face  he  lowered  his  eyes  again,- 
and  fixed  them  on  the  floor. 

"  And  how  have  you  been  employing  yourself  in  the  mean 
while  ?  "  quoth  Sir  John,  lazily  crossing  his  legs.  "  Where 
have  you  been  ?  what  harm  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"Xo  harm  at  all,  Master,"  growled  Hugh,  with  humility. 
"  I  have  only  done  as  you  ordered." 

"  As  I  what  ?  "  returned  Sir  John. 

"  Well  then,"  said  Hugh  uneasily,  "as  you  advised,  or  said 
I  ought,  or  said  I  might,  or  said  that  you  would  do,  if  you  was 
me.     Don't  be  so  hard  upon  me,  master." 

Something  like  an  expression  of  triumph  in  the  perfect 
control    he    had    established    over   this    rou2:h    instrument, 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  349 

appeared  in  the  knight's  face  for  an  instant ;  but  it  vanished 
directly,  as  he  said  —  paring  his  nails  while  speaking,  — 

"  When  you  say  I  ordered  you,  my  good  fellow,  you  imply 
that  I  directed  you  to  do  something  for  me  —  something  I 
wanted  done  —  something  for  my  own  ends  and  purposes  — 
you  see  ?  Now  I  am  sure  I  needn't  enlarge  upon  the  extreme 
absurdity  of  such  an  idea,  however  unintentional ;  so  please  " 
—  and  here  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  him  —  "to  be  more 
guarded.     Will  you  ?  " 

"I  meant  to  give  you  no  offence,"  said  Hugh.  "I  don't 
know  what  to  say.     You  catch  me  up  so  very  short." 

"You  will  be  caught  up  much  shorter,  my  good  friend  — 
infinitely  shorter  —  one  of  these  days,  depend  uj^on  it,"  replied 
his  patron,  calmly.  "  By-the-by,  instead  of  wondering  why 
you  have  been  so  long,  my  wonder  should  be  why  you  came 
at  all.     Wliy  did  you  ?  " 

"  You  know,  master,"  said  Hugh,  "  that  I  couldn't  read  the 
bill  I  found,  and  that  supposing  it  to  be  something  particular 
from  the  way  it  was  wrapped  up,  I  brought  it  here." 

"  And  could  you  ask  no  one  else  to  read  it.  Bruin  ?  "  said 
Sir  John. 

"No  one  that  I  could  trust  with  secrets,  master.  Since 
Barnaby  Rudge  was  lost  sight  of  for  good  and  all  —  and  that's 
five  year  ago  —  I  haven't  talked  with  any  one  but  you." 

"  You  have  done  me  honor,  I  am  sure." 

"I  have  come  to  and  fro,  master,  all  through  that  time, 
when  there  was  anything  to  tell,  because  I  knew  that  you'd 
be  angry  with  me  if  I  stayed  away,"  said  Hugh,  blurting  the 
words  out,  after  an  embarrassed  silence;  "and  because  I 
wished  to  please  you,  if  I  could,  and  not  to  have  you  go  against 
me.  There.  That's  the  true  reason  why  I  came  to-night. 
You  know  that,  master,  I  am  sure." 

"  You  are  a  specious  fellow,"  returned  Sir  John,  fixing  his 
eyes  upon  him,  "  and  carry  two  faces  under  your  hood,  as  well 
as  the  best.  Didn't  you  give  me  in  this  room,  this  evening, 
any  other  reason  ;  no  dislike  of  anybody  who  lias  slighted  you, 
lately,  on  all  occasions,  abused  you,  treated  you  witli  rudeness ; 
acted  towards  you,  more  as  if  you  were  a  mongrel  dog  tlian  a 
man  like  himself  ?  " 


350  BABNABY  BUDGE, 

"  To  be  sure  1  did ! "  cried  Hugh,  his  passion  rising,  as  the 
other  meant  it  should;  "and  I  say  it  all  over  now,  again. 
I'd  do  anything  to  have  some  revenge  on  him — anything. 
And  when  you  told  me  that  he  and  all  the  Catholics  would 
suffer  from  those  wlio  joined  together  under  that  handbill,  I 
said  I'd  make  one  of  'em,  if  their  master  was  the  devil  himself. 
I  am  one  of  'em.  See  whether  I  am  as  good  as  my  word  and 
turn  out  to  be  among  the  foremost,  or  no.  I  mayn't  have 
much  head,  master,  but  I've  head  enough  to  remember  those 
that  use  me  ill.  You  shall  see,  and  so  shall  he,  and  so  shall 
hundreds  more,  how  my  spirit  backs  me  when  the  time  comes. 
My  bark  is  nothing  to  my  bite.  Some  that  I  know,  had 
better  have  a  wild  lion  among  'em  than  me,  when  I  am  fairly 
loose  —  they  had  !  " 

The  knight  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  of  far  deeper  mean- 
ing than  ordinary ;  and  pointing  to  the  old  cupboard,  followed 
him  with  his  eyes  while  he  filled  and  drank  a  glass  of  liquor ; 
and  smiled  when  his  back  was  turned,  with  deeper  meaning 
yet. 

"  You  are  in  a  blustering  mood,  my  friend,"  he  said,  when 
Hugh  confronted  him  again. 

"  Not  I,  master  ! "  cried  Hugh.  "  I  don't  say  half  I  mean. 
I  can't.  I  haven't  got  the  gift.  There  are  talkers  enough 
among  us  ;  I'll  be  one  of  the  doers." 

''Oh  !  you  have  joined  those  fellows  then  ?  "  said  Sir  John, 
with  an  air  of  most  profound  indifference. 

"  Yes.  I  went  up  to  the  house  you  told  me  of,  and  got  put 
down  upon  the  muster.  There  was  another  man  there  named 
Dennis  "  — 

"  Dennis,  eh !  "  cried  Sir  John,  laughing.  ''  Ay,  ay  !  a 
pleasant  fellow,  I  believe  ?  " 

"A  roaring  dog,  master  —  one  after  my  own  heart  —  hot 
upon  the  matter  too  —  red  hot." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  replied  Sir  John  carelessly.  "  You 
don't  happen  to  know  his  trade,  do  you  ?  " 

"  He  wouldn't  say,"  cried  Hugh.     "  He  keeps  it  secret." 

"  Ha  ha  ! "  laughed  Sir  John.  "  A  strange  fancy  —  a  weak- 
ness with  some  persons  —  you'll  know  it  one  day,  I  dare 
swear." 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  351 

"  We're  intimate  already,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Quite  natural !  And  have  been  drinking  together,  eh  ?  " 
pursued  Sir  John.  "  Did  you  say  what  place  you  went  to  in 
company,  when  you  left  Lord  George's  ?  " 

Hugh  had  not  said  or  thought  of  saying,  but  he  told  him ; 
and  this  inquiry  being  followed  by  a  long  train  of  questions, 
he  related  all  that  had  passed  both  in  and  out  of  doors,  the 
kind  of  people  he  had  seen,  their  numbers,  state  of  feeling, 
mode  of  conversation,  apparent  expectations  and  intentions. 
His  questioning  was  so  artfully  contrived,  that  he  seemed  even 
in  his  own  eyes  to  volunteer  all  this  information  rather  than 
to  have  it  Avrested  from  him  ;  and  he  was  brought  to  this  state 
of  feeling  so  naturally,  that  when  Mr.  Chester  yawned  at 
length  and  declared  himself  quite  wearied  out,  he  made  a 
rough  kind  of  excuse  for  having  talked  so  much. 

"There — get  you  gone,"  said  Sir  John,  holding  the  door 
open  in  his  hand.  '•  You  have  made  a  pretty  evening's  work. 
I  told  you  not  to  do  this.  You  may  get  into  trouble.  You'll 
have  an  opportunity  of  revenging  yourself  on  your  proud 
friend  Haredale,  though,  and  for  that,  you'd  hazard  anything 
I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  would,"  retorted  Hugh,  stopping  in  his  passage  out  and 
looking  back ;  "  but  what  do  /  risk  !  What  do  I  stand  a 
chance  of  losing,  master  ?  Friends,  home  ?  A  fig  for  'em 
all ;  I  have  none  ;  they  are  nothing  to  me.  Give  me  a  good 
scuffle ;  let  me  pay  off  old  scores  in  a  bold  riot  where  there 
are  men  to  stand  by  me ;  and  then  use  me  as  you  like  —  it 
don't  matter  much  to  me  what  the  end  is  !  " 

''  What  have  you  done  with  that  paper  ?"  said  Sir  John. 

"  I  have  it  here,  master." 

"Drop  it  again  as  3'ou  go  along;  it's  as  well  not  to  keep 
such  things  about  you." 

Hugh  nodded,  and  touching  his  cap  with  an  air  of  as  mucli 
respect  as  he  could  summon  up,  departed. 

Sir  John,  fastening  the  doors  behind  him,  went  back  to  his 
dressing-room,  and  sat  down  once  again  before  the  fire,  at 
which  he  gazed  for  a  long  time,  in  earnest  meditation. 

"  This  happens  fortunately,"  he  said,  breaking  into  a  smile, 
"and  promises  well.     Let  me  see.     ^Fy  relative  and  I,  who 


352  BABNABY  BUBGK. 

are  the  most  Protestant  fellows  in  the  world,  give  our  worst 
wishes  to  the  Roman  Catholic  cause ;  and  to  Saville,  who 
introduces  their  bill,  I  have  a  personal  objection  besides  ;  but 
as  each  of  us  has  himself  for  the  first  article  in  his  creed,  we 
cannot  commit  ourselves  by  joining  with  a  very  extravagant 
madman,  such  as  this  Gordon  most  undoubtedly  is.  Kow, 
really,  to  foment  his  disturbances  in  secret,  through  the 
medium  of  such  a  very  apt  instrument  as  my  savage  friend 
here,  may  further  our  real  ends  ;  and  to  express  at  all  becom- 
ing seasons,  in  moderate  and  polite  terms,  a  disapprobation  of 
his  proceedings,  though  we  agree  with  him  in  principle,  will 
certainly  be  to  gain  a  character  for  honesty  and  uprightness 
of  purpose,  which  cannot  fail  to  do  us  infinite  service,  and  to 
raise  us  into  some  importance.  Good  !  So  much  for  public 
grounds.  As  to  private  considerations,  I  confess  that  if  these 
vagabonds  would  make  some  riotous  demonstration  (which  does 
not  appear  impossible),  and  ivould  inflict  some  little  chastise- 
ment on  Haredale  as  a  not  inactive  man  among  his  sect,  it 
would  be  extremely  agreeable  to  my  feelings,  and  would  amuse 
me  beyond  measure.     Good  again  !     Perhaps  better  !  " 

When  he  came  to  this  point,  he  took  a  pinch  of  snulf :  then 
beginning  slowly  to  undress,  he  resumed  his  meditations,  by 
saying  with  a  smile,  — 

"  I  fear,  I  do  fear  exceedingly,  that  my  friend  is  following 
fast  in  the  footsteps  of  his  mother.  His  intimacy  with  Mr. 
Dennis  is  very  ominous.  But  I  have  no  doubt  he  must  have 
come  to  that  end  any  way.  If  1  lend  him  a  helping  hand, 
the  only  difference  is,  that  he  may,  upon  the  whole,  possibly 
drink  a  few  gallons,  or  punclreons,  or  hogsheads,  less  in  this 
life  than  he  otherwise  would.  It's  no  business  of  mine. 
It's  a  matter  of  very  small  importance  !  " 

So  he  took  another  pinch  of  snuff,  and  went  to  bed. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  353 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

From  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key  there  issued  forth 
a  tinkling  sound,  so  merry  and  good-humored,  that  it 
suggested  the  idea  of  some  one  working  blithely,  and  made 
quite  pleasant  music,  ^o  man  who  hammered  on  at  a  dull 
monotonous  dut}',  could  have  brought  such  cheerful  notes  from 
steel  and  iron ;  none  but  a  chirping,  healthy,  honest-hearted 
fellow,  who  made  the  best  of  everything,  and  felt  kindly 
towards  everybody,  could  have  done  it  for  an  instant.  He 
might  have  been  a  coppersmith,  and  still  been  musical.  If 
he  had  sat  in  a  jolting  wagon,  full  of  rods  of  iron,  it  seemed 
as  if  he  would  have  brought  some  harmony  out  of  it. 

Tink,  tink,  tink  —  clear  as  a  silver  bell,  and  audible  at  every 
pause  of  the  streets'  harsher  noises,  as  though  it  said,  "  I 
don't  care  ;  nothing  puts  me  out ;  I  am  resolved  to  be  happy." 
Women  scolded,  children  squalled,  heavy  carts  went  rumbling 
by,  horrible  cries  proceeded  from  the  lungs  of  hawkers  ;  still 
it  struck  in  again,  no  higher,  no  lower,  no  louder,  no  softer; 
not  thrusting  itself  on  people's  notice  a  bit  the  more  for  having 
been  outdone  by  louder  sounds  —  tink,  tink,  tink,  tink,  tink. 

It  was  a  perfect  embodiment  of  the  still  small  voice,  free 
from  all  cold,  hoarseness,  huskiness,  or  unhealthiness  of  any 
kind ;  foot-passengers  slackened  their  pace,  and  were  disposed 
to  linger  near  it ;  neighbors  who  had  got  up  splenetic  that 
morning,  felt  good-humor  stealing  on  them  as  they  heard  it, 
and  by  degrees  became  quite  sprightly ;  mothers  danced  their 
babies  to  its  ringing ;  still  the  same  magical  tink,  tink,  tink, 
came  gayly  from  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key. 

Who  but  the  locksmith  could  liave  made  such  nuisic !  A 
gleam  of  sun  shining  through  tlie  unsashed  window,  aiul 
checkering  tlie  dark  workshop  with  a  broad  patch  of  light, 
fell  full  upon  him,  as  though  attracted  by  his  sunny  heart. 


354  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

There  he  stood  working  at  his  anvil,  his  face  all  radiant  with 
exercise  and  gladness,  his  sleeves  turned  up,  his  wig  pushed 
off  his  shining  forehead  —  the  easiest,  freest,  happiest  man  in 
all  the  world.  Beside  him  sat  a  sleek  cat,  purring  and 
winking  in  the  light,  and  falling  every  now  and  then  into  an 
idle  doze,  as  from  excess  of  comfort.  Toby  looked  on  from  a 
tall  bench  hard  by ;  one  beaming  smile,  from  his  broad  nut- 
brown  face  down  to  the  slack-baked  buckles  in  his  shoes.  The 
very  locks  that  hung  around  had  something  jovial  in  their 
rust,  and  seemed  like  gouty  gentlemen  of  hearty  natures, 
disposed  to  joke  on  their  infirmities.  There  was  nothing 
surly  or  severe  in  the  whole  scene.  It  seemed  impossible  that 
any  one  of  the  innumerable  keys  could  fit  a  churlish  strong- 
box or  a  prison  door.  Cellars  of  beer  and  wine,  rooms  where 
there  were  fires,  books,  gossip,  and  cheering  laughter — these 
were  their  proper  sphere  of  action.  Places  of  distrust  and 
cruelty,  and  restraint,  they  would  have  left  quadruple-locked 
forever. 

Tink,  tink,  tink.  The  locksmith  paused  at  last,  and  wiped 
his  brow.  The  silence  roused  the  cat,  who,  jumping  softly 
down,  crept  to  the  door,  and  watched  with  tiger  eyes  a  bird- 
cage in  an  opposite  window.  Gabriel  lifted  Toby  to  his 
mouth,  and  took  a  hearty  draught. 

Then,  as  he  stood  upright,  with  his  head  flung  back,  and 
his  portly  chest  thrown  out,  you  would  have  seen  that 
Gabriel's  lower  man  was  clothed  in  military  gear.  Glancing 
at  the  wall  beyond,  there  might  have  been  espied,  hanging  on 
their  several  pegs,  a  cap  and  feather,  broad-sword,  sash,  and 
coat  of  scarlet ;  which  any  man  learned  in  such  matters  would 
have  known  from  their  make  and  pattern  to  be  the  uniform 
of  a  sergeant  in  the  Koyal  East-London  Volunteers. 

As  the  locksmith  put  his  mug  down,  empty,  on  the  bench, 
whence  it  had  smiled  on  him  before,  he  glanced  at  these 
articles  with  a  laughing  eye,  and  looking  at  them  with  his 
head  a  little  on  one  side,  as  though  he  would  get  them  all 
into  a  focus,  said,  leaning  on  his  hammer,  — 

"  Time  was,  now,  I  remember,  when  I  was  like  to  run  mad 
with  the  desire  to  wear  a  coat  of  that  color.  If  any  one, 
(except  my  father)  had  called  me  a  fool  for  my  pains,  how  I 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  355 

should  have  fired  and  fumed  !  But  what  a  fool  I  must  have 
been,  sure-ly ! " 

"  Ah ! "  sighed  Mrs.  Varden,  who  had  entered  unobserved. 
"  A  fool  indeed.  A  man  at  your  time  of  life,  Varden,  should 
know  better  now." 

"^Yhy,  what  a  ridiculous  woman  you  are,  Martha,"  said 
the  locksmith,  turning  round  with  a  smile. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  V.  with  great  demureness.  "Of 
course  I  am.     I  know  that,  Varden.     Thank  you." 

"  I  mean  "  —  began  the  locksmith. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  wife,  "  I  know  what  you  mean.  You 
speak  quite  plain  enough  to  be  understood,  Varden.  It's 
very  kind  of  you  to  adapt  yourself  to  my  capacity,  I  am  sure." 

"Tut,  tut,  Martha,"  rejoined  the  locksmith;  "don't  take 
offence  at  nothing.  I  mean,  how  strange  it  is  of  you  to  run 
down  volunteering,  when  it's  done  to  defend  you  and  all  the 
other  women,  and  our  own  fireside  and  everybody  else's,  in 
case  of  need." 

"It's  unchristian,"  cried  Mrs.  Varden,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Unchristian  !  "  said  the  locksmith.  "  Why,  what  the 
devil "  — 

Mrs.  Varden  looked  at  the  ceiling,  as  in  expectation  that 
the  consequence  of  this  profanity  would  be  the  immediate 
descent  of  the  four-post  bedstead  on  the  second  floor,  together 
with  the  best  sitting-room  on  the  first ;  but  no  visible  judg- 
ment occurring,  she  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  begged  her 
husband,  in  a  tone  of  resignation,  to  go  on,  and  by  all  means 
to  blaspheme  as  much  as  possible,  because  he  knew  she 
liked  it. 

The  locksmith  did  for  a  moment  seem  disposed  to  gratify 
her,  but  he  gave  a  great  gulp,  and  mildly  rejoined,  — 

"  I  was  going  to  say,  what  on  earth  do  you  call  it  unchris- 
tian for?  Which  would  be  most  unchristian,  Martha  —  to  sit 
quietly  down  and  let  our  houses  be  sacked  by  a  foreign  army, 
or  to  turn  out  like  men  and  drive  'em  off  ?  Shouldn't  I  be  a 
nice  sort  of  a  Christian,  if  I  crept  into  a  corner  of  my  own 
chimney  and  looked  on  while  a  parcel  of  whiskered  savages 
bore  off  Dolly  —  or  you  ?  " 

When  he   said   "  or  you,"    Mrs.  Varden,   despite   herself, 


356  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

relaxed  into  a  smile.  There  was  something  complimentary 
in  the  idea.  "  In  such  a  state  of  things  as  that,  indeed  "  — 
she  simpered. 

"As  that!"  repeated  the  locksmith.  "Well,  that  would 
be  the  state  of  things  directly.  Even  Miggs  would  go. 
Some  black  tambourine-plaj-er,  with  a  great  turban  on,  would 
be  bearing  Jier  off,  and,  unless  the  tambourine-player  was 
proof  against  kicking  and  scratching,  it's  my  belief  he'd  have 
the  worst  of  it.  Ha,  ha,  ha!  I'd  forgive  the  tambourine- 
player.  I  wouldn't  have  him  interfered  with  on  any  account, 
poor  fellow."  And  here  the  locksmith  laughed  again  so 
heartily,  that  tears  came  into  his  eyes — much  to  Mrs. 
Varden's  indignation,  who  thought  the  capture  of  so  sound  a 
Protestant  and  estimable  a  private  character  as  jMiggs  by  a 
Pagan  negro,  a  circumstance  too  shocking  and  awful  for  con- 
templation. 

The  picture  Gabriel  had  drawn,  indeed,  threatened  serious 
consequences,  and  would  indubitably  have  led  to  them,  but 
luckily  at  that  moment  a  light  footstep  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  Dolly,  running  in,  threw  her  arms  round  her  old  father's 
neck  and  hugged  him  tight. 

"  Here  she  is  at  last !  "  cried  Gabriel.  "  And  how  well 
you  look,  Doll,  and  how  late  you  are,  my  darling  ! " 

How  well  she  looked  ?  Well  ?  Why,  if  he  had  exhausted 
every  laudatory  adjective  in  the  dictionary,  it  wouldn't  have 
been  praise  enough.  When  and  where  was  there  ever  such  a 
plump,  roguish,  comely,  bright-eyed,  enticing,  bewitching, 
captivating,  maddening  little  puss  in  all  this  world,  as  Dolly  ! 
What  was  the  Dolly  of  five  years  ago,  to  the  Dolly  of  that 
day !  How  many  coachmakers,  saddlers,  cabinet-makers, 
and  professors  of  other  useful  arts,  had  deserted  their  fathers, 
mothers,  sisters,  brothers,  and,  most  of  all,  their  cousins,  for 
the  love  of  her  !  How  many  unknown  gentlemen  —  supposed 
to  be  of  mighty  fortunes,  if  not  titles  —  had  waited  round  the 
corner  after  dark,  and  tempted  Miggs  the  incorruptible,  with 
golden  guineas,  to  deliver  offers  of  marriage  folded  up  in  love- 
letters  !  How  many  disconsolate  fathers  and  substantial 
tradesmen  had  waited  on  the  locksmith  for  the  same  purpose, 
with  dismal  tales  of  how  their  sons  had  lost  their  appetites, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  357 

and  taken  to  shut  themselves  up  in  dark  bedrooms,  and 
wandering  in  desolate  suburbs  with  pale  faces,  and  all  because 
of  Dolly  Varden's  loveliness  and  cruelty  !  How  many  young 
men,  in  all  previous  times  of  unprecedented  steadiness,  had 
turned  suddenly  wild  and  wicked  for  the  same  reason,  and,  in 
an  ecstasy  of  unrequited  love,  taken  to  wrench  off  door- 
knockers, and  invert  the  boxes  of  rheumatic  watclimen ! 
How  had  she  recruited  the  king's  service,  both  by  sea  and 
land,  through  rendering  desperate  his  loving  subjects  between 
the  ages  of  eighteen  and  twenty-five!  How  many  young 
ladies  had  publicly  professed  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  that  for 
their  tastes  she  was  much  too  short,  too  tall,  too  bold,  too 
cold,  too  stout,  too  thin,  too  fair,  too  dark  —  too  everything  but 
handsome  !  How  many  old  ladies,  taking  counsel  together, 
had  thanked  Heaven  their  daughters  were  not  like  her,  and 
had  hoped  she  might  come  to  no  harm,  and  had  thought  she 
would  come  to  no  good,  and  had  wondered  what  people  saw 
in  her,  and  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  she  was  "going 
off"  in  her  looks,  or  had  never  come  on  in  them,  and  that  she 
was  a  thorough  imposition  and  a  popular  mistake  ! 

And  yet  here  was  this  same  Dolly  Yarden,  so  whimsical 
and  hard  to  please  that  she  was  Dolly  Yarden  still,  all  smiles 
and  dimples,  and  pleasant  looks,  and  caring  no  more  for  the 
fifty  or  sixty  young  fellows  who  at  that  very  moment  were 
breaking  their  hearts  to  marry  her,  than  if  so  many  oysters 
had  been  crossed  in  love  and  opened  afterwards. 

Dolly  hugged  her  father  as  has  been  already  stated,  and 
having  hugged  her  mother  also,  accompanied  both  into  the 
little  parlor  where  the  cloth  was  already  laid  for  dinner,  and 
where  Miss  Miggs  —  a  trifle  more  rigid  and  bony  than  of  yore 
—  received  her  with  a  sort  of  hysterical  gasp,  intended  for  a 
smile.  Into  the  hands  of  that  young  virgin,  she  delivered  her 
bonnet  and  walking  dress  (all  of  a  dreadful,  artful,  and 
designing  kind),  and  then  said  with  a  laugh,  which  rivalled 
the  locksmith's  music,  "  How  glad  I  always  am  to  be  at  home 
again  ! " 

"And  how  glad  we  always  are,  Doll,"  said  her  father, 
putting  back  the  dark  liair  from  her  sparkling  eyes,  "to  have 
you  at  home.     Give  me  a  kiss." 


35S  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

If  there  had  been  anybody  of  the  male  kind  there  to  see  her 
do  it  —  but  there  was  not  —  it  was  a  nle^C3^ 

"I  don't  like  your  being  at  the  Warren,"  said  the  lock- 
smith, "  I  can't  bear  to  have  you  out  of  my  sight.  And  what 
is  the  news  over  yonder,  Doll  ?  " 

"  AYhat  news  there  is,  I  think  you  know  already,"  replied 
his  daughter.     "  I  am  sure  you  do,  though." 

"  Ay  ?  "  cried  the  locksmith.     "  What's  that  ?  " 

''Come,  come,"  said  Dolly,  "you  know  very  well.  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  why  ^Iv.  Haredale  —  oh,  how  gruff  he  is  again 
to  be  sure  !  — has  been  away  from  home  for  some  days  past, 
and  why  he  is  travelling  about  (we  know  he  is  travelling, 
because  of  his  letters)  without  telling  his  own  niece  why  or 
wherefore." 

"  Miss  Emma  doesn't  want  to  know,  I'll  swear,"  returned 
the  locksmith. 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  Dolly  ;  "  but  /  do,  at  any  rate. 
Do  tell  me.  Why  is  he  so  secret,  and  what  is  this  ghost 
story  which  nobody  is  to  tell  Miss  Emma,  and  which  seems 
to  be  mixed  up  with  his  going  away  ?  Now  I  see  you  know 
by  your  coloring  so." 

"  What  the  story  means,  or  is,  or  has  to  do  w^ith  it,  I  know 
no  more  than  you,  my  dear,"  returned  the  locksmith,  "  except 
that  it's  some  foolish  fear  of  little  Solomon's  —  which  has, 
indeed,  no  meaning  in  it,  I  suppose.  As  to  Mr.  Haredale's 
journey  he  goes,  as  I  believe  "  — 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolly. 

"As  I  believe,"  resumed  the  locksmith,  pinching  her  cheek, 
"on  business,  Doll.  What  it  may  be,  is  quite  another 
matter.  Eead  Blue  Beard,  and  don't  be  too  curious,  pet ; 
it's  no  business  of  yours  or  mine,  depend  upon  that;  and 
here's  dinner,  which  is  much  more  to  the  j^urpose." 

Dolly  might  have  remonstrated  against  this  summary  dis- 
missal of  the  subject,  notwithstanding  the  appearance  of 
dinner,  but  at  the  mention  of  Blue  Beard  Mrs.  Varden  inter- 
posed, protesting  she  could  not  find  it  in  her  conscience  to  sit 
tamely  by,  and  hear  her  child  recommended  to  peruse  the 
adventures  of  a  Turk  and  Mussulman  —  far  less  of  a  fabulous 
Turk,  which  she  considered  that  potentate  to  be.     She  held 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  359 

that  in  such  stirring  and  tremendous  times  as  those  in  which 
they  lived,  it  would  be  much  more  to  the  purpose  if  Dolly 
became  a  regular  subscriber  to  the  Thunderer,  where  she 
would  have  an  opportunity  of  reading  Lord  George  Gordon's 
speeches  word  for  word,  which  would  be  a  greater  comfort 
and  solace  to  her,  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  Blue  Beards  ever 
could  impart.  She  appealed  in  support  of  this  proposition  to 
Miss  Miggs  then  in  waiting,  who  said  that  indeed  the  peace 
of  mind  she  had  derived  from  the  perusal  of  that  paper 
generally,  but  especially  of  one  article  of  the  very  last  week 
as  ever  was,  entitled  "Great  Britain  drenched  in  gore,"  exceeded 
all  belief  ;  the  same  composition,  she  added,  had  also  wrought 
such  a  comforting  effect  on  the  mind  of  a  married  sister  of 
hers,  then  resident  at  Golden  Lion  Court,  number  twenty- 
si  vin,  second  bell-handle  on  the  right  hand  door-post,  that, 
being  in  a  delicate  state  of  health,  and  in  fact,  expecting  an 
addition  to  her  family,  she  had  been  seized  with  fits  directly 
after  its  perusal,  and  had  raved  of  the  Inquisition  ever  since ; 
to  the  great  improvement  of  her  husband  and  friends.  Miss 
Miggs  went  on  to  say  that  she  would  recommend  all  those 
whose  hearts  were  hardened  to  hear  Lord  George  themselves, 
whom  she  commended  first,  in  respect  of  his  steady  Protes- 
tantism, then  of  his  oratory,  then  of  his  eyes,  then  of  his  nose, 
then  of  his  legs,  and  lastly  of  his  figure  generally,  which  she 
looked  upon  as  fit  for  any  statue,  prince,  or  angel,  to  which 
sentiment  ^Irs.  Varden  fully  subscribed. 

iSIrs.  Varden  having  cut  in,  looked  at  a  box  upon  the 
mantel-shelf,  painted  in  imitation  of  a  very  red-brick  dwelling- 
house,  with  a  yellow  roof  ;  having  at  top  a  real  chimney,  down 
which  voluntary  subscribers  dropped  their  silver,  gold,  or 
pence,  into  the  parlor  ;  and  on  the  door  the  counterfeit  pre- 
sentment of  a  brass  plate,  whereon  was  legibly  inscribed 
"  Protestant  Association  : "  —  and  looking  at  it,  said,  that  it 
was  to  her  a  source  of  poignant  misery  to  think  that  Varden 
never  had,  of  all  his  substance,  dropped  anything  into  that 
temple,  save  once  in  secret  —  as  she  afterwards  discovered  — 
two  fragments  of  tobacco-pipe,  which  she  hoped  would  not  be 
put  down  to  his  last  account.  That  Dolly,  she  was  grieved  to 
say,  was  no  less  backward  in  her  contributions,  better  loving, 


360  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

as  it  seemed,  to  purchase  ribbons  and  such  gauds,  than  to 
encourage  the  great  cause,  then  in  such  heavy  tribulation  ; 
and  that  she  did  entreat  her  (her  father  she  much  feared  could 
not  be  moved)  not  to  despise,  but  imitate,  the  bright  example 
of  Miss  Miggs,  who  flung  her  wages,  as  it  were,  into  the  very 
countenance  of  the  Pope,  and  bruised  his  features  with  her 
quarter's  money. 

"  Oh,  mini,"  said  Miggs,  "  don't  relude  to  that.  I  had  no 
intentions,  mim,  that  nobody  should  know.  Such  sacrifices 
as  I  can  make,  are  quite  a  widder's  mite.  It's  all  I  have," 
cried  Miggs  wath  a  great  burst  of  tears  —  for  with  her  they 
never  came  on  by  degrees  —  "  but  it's  made  up  to  me  in  other 
ways  ;  it's  well  made  up." 

This  was  quite  true,  though  not  perhaps  in  the  sense  that 
Miggs  intended.  As  she  never  failed  to  keep  her  self-denial 
full  in  Mrs.  Varden's  view,  it  drew  forth  so  many  gifts  of  caps 
and  gowns  and  other  articles  of  dress,  that  upon  the  whole  the 
red-brick  house  was  perhaps  the  best  investment  for  her 
small  capital  she  could  possibly  have  hit  upon  ;  returning  her 
interest,  at  the  rate  of  seven  or  eight  per  cent  in  money,  and 
fifty  at  least  in  personal  repute  and  credit. 

"You  needn't  cry,  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  herself  in 
tears  ;  "  you  needn't  be  ashamed  of  it,  though  your  poor  mis- 
tress is  on  the  same  side." 

Miggs  howled  at  this  remark,  in  a  peculiarly  dismal  way, 
and  said  she  know^ed  that  master  hated  her.  That  it  was  a 
dreadful  thing  to  live  in  families  and  have  dislikes,  and  not 
give  satisfactions.  That  to  make  divisions  was  a  thing  she 
could  not  abear  to  think  of,  neither  could  her  feelings  let  her 
do  it.  That  if  it  was  master's  wishes  as  she  and  him  should 
part,  it  was  best  they  should  part,  and  she  hoped  he  might 
be  the  happier  for  it,  and  always  wishes  him  well,  and  that 
he  might  find  somebody  as  would  meet  his  dispositions.  It 
w^ould  be  a  hard  trial,  she  said,  to  part  from  such  a  missis, 
but  she  could  meet  any  suffering  when  her  conscience  told  her 
she  was  in  the  rights,  and  therefore  she  was  willing  even  to 
go  that  lengths.  She  did  not  think,  she  added,  that  she  could 
long  survive  the  separations,  but,  as  she  was  hated  and  looked 
upon  unpleasant,  perhaps  her  dying  as  soon  as  possible  would 


BARNABT  BUDGE.  861 

be  the  best  endings  for  all  parties,  AVitli  this  affecting  con- 
clusion, Miss  Miggs  shed  more  tears,  and  sobbed  abundant!}'. 

"  Can  you  bear  this,  Varden  ?  "  said  his  wife  in  a  solemn 
voice,  laying  down  her  knife  and  fork. 

"Why,  not  very  well,  my  dear,"  rejoined  the  locksmith, 
"but  I  try  to  keep  my  temper." 

"  Don't  let  there  be  words  on  my  account,  mim,"  sobbed 
Miggs.  "It's  much  the  best  that  we  should  part.  I  wouldn't 
stay  —  oh,  gracious  me  !  —  and  make  dissensions,  not  for  a 
annual  gold  mine,  and  found  in  tea  and  sugar." 

Lest  the  reader  should  be  at  any  loss  to  discover  the  cause 
of  Miss  Miggs's  deep  emotion,  it  may  be  whispered  apart  that, 
happening  to  be  listening,  as  her  custom  sometimes  was, 
when  Gabriel  and  his  wife  conversed  together,  she  had  heard 
the  locksmith's  joke  relative  to  the  foreign  black  who  played 
the  tambourine,  and  bursting  with  the  spiteful  feelings 
which  the  taunt  awoke  in  her  fair  breast,  exploded  in  the 
manner  we  have  witnessed.  Matters  having  arrived  at  a 
crisis,  the  locksmith,  as  usual,  and  for  the  sake  of  peace  and 
quietness,  gave  in. 

"  What  are  you  crying  for,  girl  ?  "  he  said.  "'  What's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  What  are  you  talking  about  hatred  for  ? 
/  don't  hate  you  ;  I  don't  hate  anybody.  Dry  your  eyes  and 
make  yourself  agreeable,  in  Heaven's  name,  and  let  us  all  be 
happy  while  we  can." 

The  allied  powers  deeming  it  good  generalship  to  consider 
this  a  sufficient  apology  on  the  part  of  the  enemy,  and  con- 
fession of  having  been  in  the  wrong,  did  dry  their  eyes  and 
take  it  in  good  part.  Miss  JNIiggs  observed  that  she  bore  no 
malice,  no  not  to  her  greatest  foe,  whom  she  rather  loved  the 
more  indeed,  the  greater  persecution  she  sustained.  ^Irs. 
Varden  approved  of  this  meek  and  forgiving  spirit  in  liigh 
terms,  and  incidentally  declared  as  a  closing  article  of  agree- 
ment, that  Dolly  should  accompany  her  to  the  Clerkenwell 
branch  of  the  association,  that  very  night.  This  was  an 
extraordinary  instance  of  her  great  prudence  and  policy ; 
having  \^({  this  end  in  view  from  the  first,  and  entertaining 
a  secret  misgiving  that  the  locksmith  (who  was  bold  when 
Dolly  was  in  question)   would  object,  she    had  backed  Miss 


362  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

]\Iiggs  up  to  this  point,  in  order  that  she  might  have  him 
at  a  disadvantage.  The  manoeuvre  succeeded  so  well  that 
Gabriel  only  made  a  wry  face,  and  with  the  warning  he  had 
just  had,  fresh  in  his  mind,  did  not  dare  to  say  one  word. 

The  difference  ended,  therefore,  in  Miggs  being  presented 
with  a  gown  by  Mrs.  Varden  and  half  a  crown  by  Dolly,  as 
if  she  had  eminently  distinguished  herself  in  the  paths  of 
morality  and  goodness.  Mrs.  Y.,  according  to  custom,  ex- 
pressed her  hope  that  Yarden  would  take  a  lesson  from  what 
had  passed  and  learn  more  generous  conduct  for  the  time  to 
come  ;  and  the  dinner  being  now  cold  and  nobody's  appetite 
very  much  improved  by  what  had  passed,  they  went  on  with 
it,  as  Mrs.  Yarden  said,  ''  like  Christians." 

As  there  was  to  be  a  grand  parade  of  the  Eoyal  East 
London  Yolunteers  that  afternoon,  the  locksmith  did  no  more 
work ;  but  sat  down  comfortably  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth, 
and  his  arm  round  his  pretty  daughter's  waist,  looking  lovingly 
on  Mrs.  Y.,  from  time  to  time,  and  exhibiting  from  the  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot,  one  smiling  surface  of  good- 
humor.  And  to  be  sure,  when  it  was  time  to  dress  him  in  his 
regimentals,  and  Dolly,  hanging  about  him  in  all  kinds  of 
graceful  winning  ways,  helped  to  button  and  buckle  and  brush 
him  up  and  get  him  into  one  of  the  tightest  coats  that  ever 
was  made  by  mortal  tailor,  he  was  the  proudest  father  in  all 
England. 

"What  a  handy  jade  it  is!"  said  the  locksmith  to  Mrs. 
Yarden,  who  stood  by  with  folded  hands  —  rather  proud  of  her 
husband  too  —  while  Miggs  held  his  cap  and  sword  at  arm's 
length,  as  if  mistrusting  that  the  latter  might  run  some  one 
through  the  body  of  its  own  accord ;  "  but  never  marry  a 
soldier  Doll,  my  dear." 

Dolly  didn't  ask  why  not,  or  say  a  word,  indeed,  but 
stooped  her  head  down  very  low  to  tie  his  sash. 

"  I  never  wear  this  dress,"  said  honest  Gabriel,  "  but  I 
think  of  poor  Joe  Willet.  I  loved  Joe ;  he  was  always  a 
favorite  of  mine.  Poor  Joe  !  —  Dear  heart,  my  girl,  don't  tie 
me  in  so  tight." 

Dolly  laughed  —  not  like  herself  at  all  —  the  strangest  little 
laugh  that  could  be  —  and  held  her  head  down  lower  still. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  363 

"Poor  Joe  !"  resumed  the  locksmith,  muttering  to  himself; 
"I  always  wish  he  had  come  to  me.  I  might  have  made  it 
up  between  them,  if  he  had.  Ah  !  old  John  made  a  great 
mistake  in  his  way  of  acting  by  that  lad  —  a  great  mistake.  — 
Have  you  nearly  tied  that  sash,  my  dear?" 

What  an  ill-made  sash  it  was  !  There  it  was,  loose  again 
and  trailing  on  the  ground.  Dolly  w^as  obliged  to  kneel  down, 
and  recommence  at  the  beginning. 

"N^evermind  j^oung  Willet,  Varden,"  said  his  wife  frown- 
ing ;  "  you  might  find  some  one  more  deserving  to  talk  about, 
I  think." 

Miss  Miggs  gave  a  great  sniff  to  the  same  effect. 

"  ]S"ay,  Martha,"  cried  the  locksmith,  "  don't  let  us  bear  too 
hard  upon  him.  If  the  lad  is  dead  indeed,  we'll  deal  kindly 
by  his  memory." 

"  A  runaway  and  a  vagabond  !  "  said  ^Mrs.  Varden. 

Miss  Miggs  expressed  her  concurrence  as  before. 

"A  runaway,  my  dear,  but  not  a  vagabond,"  returned  the 
locksmith  in  a  gentle  tone.  '•  He  behaved  himself  well,  did 
Joe  —  always  —  and  was  a  handsome,  manly  fellow.  Don't 
call  him  a  vagabond,  Martha." 

Mrs.  Varden  coughed  —  and  so  did  ^liggs. 

"  He  tried  hard  to  gain  your  good  opinion,  ^Martha,  I  can 
tell  you,"  said  the  locksmith  smiling,  and  stroking  his  chin. 
"Ah!  that  he  did.  It  seems  but  yesterday  that  he  followed 
me  out  to  the  Maypole  door  one  night,  and  begged  me  not 
to  say  how  like  a  boy  they  used  him  —  say  here,  at  home,  he 
meant,  though  at  the  time,  I  recollect,  I  didn't  understand. 
'  And  how's  Miss  Dolly,  sir  ? '  says  Joe,"  pursued  the  lock- 
smith, musing  sorrowfully,  "  Ah  !  Poor  Joe  !  " 

"  Well,  I  declare,"  cried  Miggs.  "  Oh  !  Goodness  gracious 
me !  " 

"What's  the  matter  now  ?"  said  Gabriel,  turning  sharply 
to  her. 

"  Why,  if  here  ain't  ^liss  Dolly,"  said  the  handmaid,  stoop- 
ing down  to  look  into  her  face,  "a-giving  way  to  floods  of 
tears.  Oh,  mini !  oh,  sir.  Paly  it's  give  me  such  a  turn," 
cried  the  susceptible  damsel,  pressing  her  hand  upon  her  side 
to  quell  the  palpitation  of  her  heart,  "that  you  might  knock 
me  down  with  a  feather." 


364  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

The  locksmith,  after  ghmcing  at  ^Miss  Miggs  as  if  he  could 
have  wished  to  have  a  feather  brought  straightway,  looked  on 
with  a  broad  stare  w^hile  Dolly  hurried  away,  followed  by 
that  sympathizing  young  woman  :  then  turning  to  his  wife, 
stammered  out,  "  Is  Dolly  ill  ?  Have  /  done  any  thing  ?  Is 
it  my  fault  ?  " 

"  Your  fault ! "  cried  Mrs.  V.  reproachfully.  "  There —  you 
had  better  make  haste  out." 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  said  poor  Gabriel.  "  It  was  agreed 
that  Mr.  Edward's  name  was  never  to  be  mentioned,  and  I 
have  not  spoken  of  him,  have  I?  " 

Mrs.  Varden  merely  replied  that  she  had  no  patience  with 
him,  and  bounced  off  after  the  other  two.  The  unfortunate 
locksmith  wound  his  sash  about  him,  girded  on  his  sword,  put 
on  his  cap,  and  w^alked  outT 

"  I  am  not  much  of  a  dab  at  my  exercise,"  he  said  under 
his  breath,  '^  but  I  shall  get  into  fewer  scrapes  at  that  work 
than  at  this.  Every  man  came  into  the  world  for  something ; 
my  department  seems  to  be  to  make  every  woman  cry  without 
meaning  it.     It's  rather  hard  ! " 

But  he  forgot  it  before  he  reached  the  end  of  the  street,  and 
went  on  with  a  shining  face,  nodding  to  the  neighbors,  and 
showering  about  his  friendly  greetings  like  mild  spring  rain. 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  365 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

The  Royal  East  London  Volunteers  made  a  brilliant  sight 
that  day  ;  formed  into  lines,  squares,  circles,  triangles,  and 
what  not,  to  the  beating  of  drums  and  the  streaming  of  flags ; 
and  performed  a  vast  number  of  complex  evolutions,  in  all  of 
which  Sergeant  Varden  bore  a  conspicuous  share.  Having 
displayed  their  military  prowess  to  the  utmost  in  these  war- 
like shows,  they  marched  in  glittering  order  to  the  Chelsea 
Bun-house,  and  regaled  in  the  adjacent  taverns  until  dark. 
Then  at  sound  of  drum  they  fell  in  again,  and  returned  amidst 
the  shouting  of  His  Majesty's  lieges  to  the  place  from  whence 
they  came. 

The  homeward  march  being  somewhat  tardy,  —  owing  to 
the  un-soldierlike  behavior  of  certain  corporals,  who  being 
gentlemen  of  sedentary  pursuits  in  private  life  and  excitable 
out  of  doors,  broke  several  windows  with  their  bayonets,  and 
rendered  it  imperative  on  the  commanding  officer  to  deliver 
them  over  to  a  strong  guard,  with  whom  they  fought  at 
intervals  as  they  came  along,  —  it  was  nine  o'clock  when  the 
locksmith  reached  home.  A  hackney-coach  was  waiting  near 
his  door ;  and  as  he  passed  it,  Mr.  Haredale  looked  from  the 
window  and  called  him  by  his  name. 

"  The  sight  of  you  is  good  for  sore  eyes,  sir,"  said  the  lock- 
smith, stepping  up  to  him.  "I  wish  you  had  walked  in 
though,  rather  than  waited  here." 

"  There  is  nobody  at  home,  I  find,"  Mr.  Haredale  answered ; 
"  besides,  I  desired  to  be  as  private  as  I  could." 

"Humph!"  muttered  the  locksmith,  looking  round  at  his 
house.  "  Gone  with  Simon  Tappertit  to  that  precious  Branch, 
no  doubt." 

Mr.  Haredale  invited  him  to  come  into  the  coacli,  and,  if  lie 
were  not  tired  or  anxious  to  go  home,  to  ride  with  him  a  little 
way    that   they    might    have    some    talk    together.      Gabriel 


366  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

cheerfully  complied,  and  the  coachman  mounting  his  box 
drove  off. 

"  Varden,"  said  ^Mr.  Haredale,  after  a  minute's  pause,  "  you 
will  be  amazed  to  hear  what  errand  I  am  on ;  it  will  seem  a 
very  strange  one." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  it's  a  reasonable  one,  sir,  and  has  a  mean- 
ing in  it,"  replied  the  locksmith;  "or  it  would  not  be  yours 
at  all.     Have  you  just  come  back  to  town,  sir  ?  " 

"  But  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  Bringing  no  news  of  Barnaby,  or  his  mother  ?  "  said  the 
locksmith  dubiously.  "Ah!  you  needn't  shake  your  head, 
sir.  It  was  a  wild-goose  chase.  I  feared  that,  from  the  first. 
You  exhausted  all  reasonable  means  of  discovery  when  they 
went  away.  To  begin  again  after  so  long  a  time  has  passed 
is  hopeless,  sir  —  quite  hopeless." 

"  Why,  where  are  they  ?  "  he  returned  impatiently.  "  Where 
can  they  be  ?     Above  ground  ?  " 

"God  knows,"  rejoined  the  locksmith,  "many  that  I 
knew  above  it  five  years  ago,  have  their  beds  under  the 
grass  now.  And  the  world  is  a  wide  place.  It's  a  hopeless 
attempt,  sir,  believe  me.  We  must  leave  the  discovery  of  this 
mystery,  like  all  others,  to  time,  and  accident,  and  Heaven's 
pleasure." 

"  Varden,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "  I  have  a 
deeper  meaning  in  my  present  anxiety  to  find  them  out,  than 
you  can  fathom.  It  is  not  a  mere  whim ;  it  is  not  the  casual 
revival  of  my  old  wishes  and  desires  ;  but  an  earnest,  solemn 
purpose.  i\[y  thoughts  and  dreams  all  tend  to  it,  and  fix  it 
in  my  mind.  I  have  no  rest  by  day  or  night ;  I  have  no  peace 
or  quiet ;  I  am  haunted." 

His  voice  was  so  altered  from  its  usual  tones,  and  his  manner 
bespoke  so  much  emotion,  that  Gabriel,  in  his  wonder,  could 
only  sit  and  look  towards  him  in  the  darkness,  and  fancy  the 
expression  of  his  face. 

"Do  not  ask  me,"  continued  Mr.  Haredale,  "to  explain 
myself.  If  I  were  to  do  so,  yow  would  think  me  the  victim 
of  some  hideous  fancy.  It  is  enough  that  this  is  so,  and  that 
I  cannot  —  no,  I  cannot  — lie  quietly  in  my  bed,  without  doing 
what  will  seem  to  you  incomprehensible." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  367 

"  Since  when,  sir,"  said  the  locksmith  after  a  pause,  "  has 
this  uneasy  feeling  been  upon  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Haredale  hesitated  for  some  moments,  and  then  replied  : 
"  Since  the  night  of  the  storm.  In  short,  since  the  last  nine- 
teenth of  March." 

As  though  he  feared  that  Varden  might  express  surprise, 
or  reason  with  him,  he  hastily  went  on,  — 

•'•  You  will  think,  I  know,  I  labor  under  some  delusion. 
Perhaps  I  do.  But  it  is  not  a  morbid  one  ;  it  is  a  wholesome 
action  of  the  mind,  reasoning  on  actual  occurrences.  You 
know  the  furniture  remains  in  Mrs.  Rudge's  house,  and  that 
it  has  been  shut  up,  by  my  orders,  since  she  went  away,  save 
once  a  week  or  so,  when  an  old  neighbor  visits  it  to  scare 
away  the  rats.     I  am  on  my  way  there  now." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  "  asked  the  locksmith. 

"  To  pass  the  night  there,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  not  to-night 
alone,  but  many  nights.  This  is  a  secret  which  I  trust  to  you 
in  case  of  any  unexpected  emergency.  You  will  not  come, 
unless  in  case  of  strong  necessity,  to  me ;  from  dusk  to  broad 
day,  I  shall  be  there.  Emma,  your  daughter,  and  the  rest, 
suppose  me  out  of  London,  as  I  have  been  until  within  this 
hour.  Do  not  undeceive  them.  This  is  the  errand  I  am 
bound  upon.  I  know  I  may  confide  it  to  you,  and  I  rely  upon 
your  questioning  me  no  more  at  this  time." 

With  that,  as  if  to  change  the  theme,  he  led  the  astounded 
locksmitli  back  to  the  night  of  the  Maypole  highwayman,  to 
the  robbery  of  Edward  Chester,  to  the  reappearance  of  the 
man  at  ^Irs.  Rudge's  house,  and  to  all  the  strange  circum- 
stances which  afterwards  occurred.  He  even  asked  him 
carelessly  about  the  man's  height,  his  face,  his  figure,  whether 
he  was  like  any  one  he  had  ever  seen  —  like  Hugh,  for  in- 
stance, or  any  man  he  had  knoA^n  at  any  time  —  and  put 
many  questions  of  that  sort,  which  the  locksmith,  considering 
them  as  mere  devices  to  engage  his  attention,  and  prevent  his 
expressing  the  astonishment  he  felt,  answered  prett}'  nuich  at 
random. 

At  length,  they  arrived  at  the  corner  of  the  street  in 
which  the  house  stood,  where  Mr.  Haredale,  alighting,  dis- 
missed the  coach.     *•  If  you  desire  to  see  me  safely  lodged," 


368  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

he  said,  turning  to  the  locksmith  with  a  gloomy  smile,  "  you 
can." 

Gabriel,  to  whom  all  former  marvels  had  been  nothing  in 
comparison  with  this,  followed  him  along  the  narrow  pave- 
ment in  silence.  When  they  reached  the  door,  Mr.  Haredale 
softly  opened  it  with  a  key  he  had  about  him,  and  closing  it 
when  Varden  entered,  they  were  left  in  thorough  darkness. 

They  groped  their  way  into  the  ground-floor  room.  Here 
Mr.  Haredale  struck  a  light,  and  kindled  a  pocket  taper  he 
had  brought  with  him  for  the  purpose.  It  was  then,  when 
the  flame  was  full  upon  him,  that  the  locksmith  saw  for  the 
first  time  how  haggard,  pale,  and  changed  he  looked ;  how 
worn  and  thin  he  was ;  how  perfectly  his  whole  appearance 
coincided  with  all  that  he  had  said  so  strangely  as  they  rode 
along.  It  was  not  an  unnatural  impulse  in  Gabriel,  after 
what  he  had  heard,  to  note  curiously  the  expression  of  his 
eyes.  It  was  perfectly  collected  and  rational ;  —  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  he  felt  ashamed  of  his  momentary  suspicion,  and 
drooped  his  own  when  Mr.  Haredale  looked  towards  him,  as  if 
he  feared  they  would  betray  his  thoughts. 

"  Will  you  walk  through  the  house  ?  "  said  Mr.  Haredale, 
with  a  glance  towards  the  window,  the  crazy  shutters  of  which 
were  closed  and  fastened.     "  Speak  low." 

There  was  a  kind  of  awe  about  the  place,  which  would  have 
rendered  it  difficult  to  speak  in  any  other  manner.  Gabriel 
whispered  "  Yes,"  and  followed  him  up-stairs. 

Everything  was  just  as  they  had  seen  it  last.  There  was  a 
sense  of  closeness  from  the  exclusion  of  fresh  air,  and  a  gloom 
and  heaviness  around,  as  though  long  imprisonment  had  made 
the  very  silence  sad.  The  homely  hangings  of  the  beds  and 
windows  had  begun  to  droop  ;  the  dust  lay  thick  upon  their 
dwindling  folds  ;  and  damps  had  made  their  way  through 
ceiling,  wall,  and  floor.  The  boards  creaked  beneath  their 
tread,  as  if  resenting  the  unaccustomed  intrusion;  niirble 
spiders,  paralyzed  by  the  taper's  glare,  checked  the  motion  of 
their  hundred  legs  upon  the  wall,  or  droj^ped  like  lifeless 
things  upon  the  ground  ;  the  death-watch  ticked  ;  and  the 
scampering  feet  of  rats  and  mice  rattled  behind  the  wainscot. 

As  they  looked  about  them  on  the   decaying  furniture,  it 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  369 

was  strange  to  find  how  vividly  it  presented  those  to  whom  it 
had  belonged,  and  with  whom  it  was  once  familiar.  Grip 
seemed  to  perch  again  upon  his  high-backed  chair  ;  Barnaby 
to  crouch  in  his  old  favorite  corner  by  the  fire ;  the  mother 
to  resume  her  usual  seat,  and  watch  him  as  of  old.  Even 
when  they  could  separate  these  objects  from  the  phantoms  of 
the  mind  which  they  invoked,  the  latter  only  glided  out  of 
sight,  but  lingered  near  them  still ;  for  then  they  seemed  to 
lurk  in  closets  and  behind  the  doors,  ready  to  start  out  and 
suddenly  accost  them  in  well-remembered  tones. 

They  went  down-stairs,  and  again  into  the  room  they  had 
just  now  left.  Mr.  Haredale  unbuckled  his  sword  and  laid  it 
on  the  table,  with  a  pair  of  pocket  pistols,  then  told  the  lock- 
smith he  would  light  him  to  the  door. 

"But  this  is  a  dull  place,  sir,"  said  Gabriel  lingering; 
"  may  no  one  share  your  watch  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head,  and  so  plainly  evinced  his  wish  to  be 
alone,  that  Gabriel  could  say  no  more.  In  another  moment 
the  locksmith  was  standing  in  the  street,  whence  he  could 
see  that  the  light  once  more  travelled  up-stairs,  and  soon  re- 
turning to  the  room  below,  shone  brightly  through  the  chinks 
in  the  shutters. 

If  ever  man  were  sorely  puzzled  and  perplexed,  the  lock- 
smith was,  that  night.  Even  when  snugly  seated  by  his  own 
fireside,  with  ^Irs.  Varden  opposite  in  a  night-cap  and  night- 
jacket,  and  Dolly  beside  him  (in  a  most  distracting  dishabille) 
curling  her  hair,  and  smiling  as  if  she  had  never  cried  in  all 
her  life  and  never  could  —  even  then,  with  Toby  at  his  elbow 
and  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  IMiggs  (but  that  perhaps  was 
not  much)  falling  asleep  in  the  background,  he  could  not 
quite  discard  his  wonder  and  uneasiness.  So,  in  his  dreams 
—  still  there  was  Mr.  Haredale,  haggard  and  careworn, 
listening  in  the  solitary  house  to  every  sound  that  stirred, 
with  the  taper  shining  through  the  chinks  until  the  day 
should  turn  it  pale  and  end  his  lonely  watching. 


VOL.  I. 


BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Next  morning  brought  no  satisfaction  to  the  locksmith's 
thoughts,  nor  next  day,  nor  the  next,  nor  many  others.  Often 
after  nightfall  he  entered  the  street,  and  turned  his  eyes 
towards  the  well-known  house ;  and  as  surely  as  he  did  so, 
there  was  the  solitary  light,  still  gleaming  through  the  crev- 
ices of  the  window-shutter,  while  all  within  was  motionless, 
noiseless,  cheerless,  as  a  grave.  Unwilling  to  hazard  Mr. 
Haredale's  favor  by  disobejdng  his  strict  injunction,  he  never 
ventured  to  knock  at  the  door  or  to  make  his  presence  known 
in  any  way.  But  whenever  strong  interest  and  curiosity 
attracted  him  to  the  spot  —  which  was  not  seldom  —  the  light 
was  always  there. 

If  he  could  have  known  what  passed  within,  the  knowledge 
would  have  yielded  him  no  clew  to  this  mysterious  vigil.  At 
twilight,  Mr.  Haredale  shut  himself  up,  and  at  daybreak  he 
came  forth.  He  never  missed  a  night,  always  came  and  went 
alone,  and  never  varied  his  proceedings  in  the  least  degree. 

The  manner  of  his  watch  was  this.  At  dusk,  he  entered 
the  house  in  the  same  way  as  when  the  locksmith  bore  him 
company,  kindled  a  light,  went  through  the  rooms,  and 
narrowly  examined  them.  That  done,  he  returned  to  the 
chamber  on  the  ground  floor,  and  laying  his  sword  and  pistols 
on  the  table,  sat  by  it  until  morning. 

He  usually  had  a  book  Avith  him,  and  often  tried  to  read, 
but  never  fixed  his  eyes  or  thoughts  upon  it  for  five  minutes 
together.  The  slightest  noise  without  doors,  caught  his  ear ; 
a  step  upon  the  pavement  seemed  to  make  his  heart  leap. 

He  was  not  without  some  refreshment  during  the  long 
lonely  hours  ;  generally  carrying  in  his  pocket  a  sandwich  of 
bread  and  meat,  and  a  small  flask  of  wine.  The  latter,  diluted 
with  large  quantities  of  water,  he  drank  in  a  heated,  feverish 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  371 

way,  as  though  his  throat  were  dried ;  but  he  scarcely  ever 
broke  his  fast,  by  so  much  as  a  crumb  of  bread. 

If  this  voluntary  sacrifice  of  sleep  and  comfort  had  its 
origin,  as  the  locksmith  on  consideration  was  disposed  to 
think,  in  any  superstitious  expectation  of  the  fulfilment  of  a 
dream  or  vision  connected  with  the  event  on  which  he  had 
brooded  for  so  many  years,  and  if  he  waited  for  some  ghostly 
visitor  who  walked  abroad  when  men  lay  sleeping  in  their 
beds,  he  showed  no  trace  of  fear  or  wavering.  His  stern 
features  expressed  inflexible  resolution ;  his  brows  were 
puckered,  and  his  lips  compressed,  with  deep  and  settled 
purpose;  and  when  he  started  at  a  noise  and  listened,  it  was 
not  with  a  start  of  fear  but  hope,  and  catching  up  his  sword 
as  though  the  hour  had  come  at  last,  he  would  clutch  it  in 
his  tight-clinched  hand,  and  listen,  with  sparkling  eyes  and 
eager  looks,  until  it  died  away. 

These  disappointments  were  numerous,  for  they  ensued  on 
almost  every  sound,  but  his  constancy  was  not  shaken.  Still, 
every  night  he  was  at  his  post,  the  same  stern,  sleepless 
sentinel ;  and  still  night  passed,  and  morning  dawned,  and  he 
must  watch  again. 

This  went  on  for  Aveeks ;  he  had  taken  a  lodging  at 
Vauxhall  in  which  to  pass  the  day  and  rest  himself;  and 
from  this  place,  when  the  tide  served,  he  usually  came  to 
London  Bridge  from  "Westminster  by  water,  in  order  that  he 
might  avoid  the  busy  streets. 

One  evening,  shortly  before  twilight,  he  came  his  accus- 
tomed road  upon  the  river's  bank,  intending  to  pass  through 
Westminster  Hall  into  Palace  Yard,  and  there  take  boat  to 
London  Bridge  as  usual.  There  was  a  pretty  large  concourse 
of  people  assembled  round  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  looking 
at  the  members  as  they  entered  and  departed,  and  giving  vent 
to  rather  noisy  demonstrations  of  approval  or  dislike,  accord- 
ing to  their  known  opinions.  As  he  made  his  way  among 
the  throng,  he  heard  once  or  twice  the  No-Popery  cry,  which 
was  then  becoming  pretty  familiar  to  the  ears  of  most  men ; 
but  holding  it  in  very  slight  regard,  and  observing  that  the 
idlers  were  of  the  lowest  grade,  he  neitlier  thought  nor  cared 
about  it,  but  made  his  way  along,  with  perfect  indifference. 


372  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

There  were  many  little  knots  and  groups  of  persons  in 
Westminster  Hall:  some  few  looking  upward  at  its  noble 
ceiling,  and  at  the  rays  of  evening  light,  tinted  by  the  setting 
sun,  which  streamed  in  aslant  through  its  small  windows,  and 
growing  dimmer  by  degrees,  were  quenched  in  the  gathering 
gloom  below ;  some,  noisy  passengers,  mechanics  going  home 
from  work,  and  otherwise,  who  hurried  quickl}^  through, 
waking  the  echoes  with  their  voices,  and  soon  darkening  the 
small  door  in  the  distance,  as  they  passed  into  the  street 
beyond;  some,  in  busy  conference  together  on  political  or 
private  matters,  pacing  slowly  up  and  down  with  eyes  that 
sought  the  ground,  and  seeming,  by  their  attitudes,  to  listen 
earnestly  from  head  to  foot.  Here,  a  dozen  squabbling 
urchins  made  a  very  Babel  in  the  air;  there,  a  solitary  man, 
half  clerk,  half  mendicant,  paced  up  and  down  with  hungry 
dejection  in  his  look  and  gait:  at  his  elbow  passed  an  errand- 
lad,  swinging  his  basket  round  and  round,  and  with  his  shrill 
whistle  riving  the  very  timbers  of  the  roof;  while  a  more 
observant  schoolboy,  half-way  through,  pocketed  his  ball,  and 
eyed  the  distant  beadle  as  he  came  looming  on.  It  was  that 
time  of  evening  when  if  you  shut  your  eyes  and  open  them 
again,  the  darkness  of  an  hour  appears  to  have  gathered  in  a 
second.  The  smooth-worn  pavement,  dusty  with  footsteps, 
still  called  upon  the  lofty  walls  to  reiterate  the  shuffle  and 
the  tread  of  feet  unceasingly,  save  when  the  closing  of  some 
heavy  door  resounded  through  the  building  like  a  clap  of 
thunder,  and  drowned  all  other  noises  in  its  rolling  sound. 

Mr.  Haredale,  glancing  only  at  such  of  these  groups  as  he 
passed  nearest  to,  and  then  in  a  manner  betokening  that  his 
thoughts  were  elsewhere,  had  nearly  traversed  the  Hall,  when 
two  persons  before  him  caught  his  attention.  One  of  these, 
a  gentleman  in  elegant  attire,  carried  in  his  hand  a  cane, 
which  he  twirled  in  a  jaunty  manner  as  he  loitered  on;  the 
other,  an  obsequious,  crouching,  fawning  figure,  listened  to 
what  he  said  —  at  times  throwing  in  a  humble  word  himself 
—  and,  with  his  shoulders  shrugged  up  to  his  ears,  rubbed  his 
hands  submissively^,  or  answered  at  intervals  by  an  inclination 
of  the  head,  half-way  between  a  nod  of  acquiescence,  and  a 
bow  of  most  profound  respect. 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  373 

In  the  abstract  there  was  nothing  very  remarkable  in  this 
pair,  for  servility  waiting  on  a  handsome  suit  of  clothes  and  a 
cane  —  not  to  speak  of  gold  and  silver  sticks,  or  wands  of 
office  —  is  common  enough.  But  there  was  that  about  the 
well-dressed  man,  yes,  and  about  the  other  likewise,  which 
struck  Mr.  Haredale  with  no  pleasant  feeling.  He  hesitated, 
stopped,  and  would  have  stepped  aside  and  turned  out  of  his 
path,  but  at  the  moment,  the  other  two  faced  about  quickly 
and  stumbled  upon  him  before  he  could  avoid  them. 

The  gentleman  with  the  cane  lifted  his  hat  and  had  begun 
to  tender  an  apology,  which  Mr.  Haredale  had  begun  as 
hastily  to  acknowledge  and  walk  away,  when  he  stopped 
short  and  cried,  "  Haredale  !  Gad  bless  me,  this  is  strange 
indeed ! " 

"  It  is,"  he  returned  impatiently  ;  "  yes  —  a  "  — 

"My  dear  friend,"  cried  the  other,  detaining  him,  "why 
such  great  speed  ?  One  minute,  Haredale,  for  the  sake  of 
old  acquaintance." 

"  I  am  in  haste,"  he  said.  "  Neither  of  us  has  sought  this 
meeting.     Let  it  be  a  brief  one.     Good-night !  " 

"  Fie,  fie ! "  replied  Sir  John  (for  it  was  he),  "  how  very 
churlish  !  We  were  speaking  of  you.  Your  name  was  on  my 
lips  —  perhaps  you  heard  me  mention  it?  No?  I  am  sorry 
for  that.  I  am  really  sorry.  —  You  know  our  friend  here, 
Haredale  ;  this  is  really  a  most  remarkable  meeting  !  " 

The  friend,  plainly  very  ill  at  ease,  had  made  bold  to  press 
Sir  John's  arm,  and  to  give  him  other  significant  hints  that 
he  was  desirous  of  avoiding  this  introduction.  As  it  did  not 
suit  Sir  John's  purpose,  however,  that  it  should  be  evaded,  he 
appeared  quite  unconscious  of  these  silent  remonstrances,  and 
inclined  his  hand  towards  him,  as  he  spoke,  to  call  attention 
to  him  more  particularly. 

The  friend,  therefore,  had  nothing  for  it,  but  to  muster 
up  the  pleasantest  smile  he  could,  and  to  make  a  conciliatory 
bow  as  ]\[r.  Haredale  turned  his  eyes  upon  him.  Seeing  that 
he  was  recognized,  he  put  out  his  hand  in  an  awkward  and 
embarrassed  manner,  which  was  not  mended  by  its  contempt- 
uous rejection. 

"Mr.  Gashford !  "  said  Haredale,  coldly.     -  It  is  as  I  liavi' 


374  nARXABY  BUDGE. 

heard  then.  You  have  left  the  darkness  for  the  light,  sir, 
and  hate  those  whose  opinions  you  formerly  held,  with  all 
the  bitterness  of  a  renegade.  You  are  an  honor,  sir,  to  any 
cause.  1  wish  the  one  you  espouse  at  present,  much  joy  of 
the  acquisition  it  has  made." 

The  secretary  rubbed  his  hands  and  bowed,  as  though  he 
would  disarm  his  adversary  by  humbling  himself  before  him. 
Sir  John  Chester  again  exclaimed,  with  an  air  of  great 
gayety,  '-  Now,  really,  this  is  a  most  remarkable  meeting  !  " 
and  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  with  his  usual  self-possession. 

"  Mr.  Haredale,"  said  Gashford,  stealthily  raising  his  eyes, 
and  letting  them  drop  again  when  they  met  the  other's  steady 
gaze,  "is  too  conscientious,  too  honorable,  too  manly,  I  am 
sure,  to  attach  unworthy  motives  to  an  honest  change  of  opin- 
ions, even  though  it  implies  a  doubt  of  those  he  holds  himself. 
Mr.  Haredale  is  too  just,  too  generous,  too  clear-sighted,  in 
his  moral  vision,  to  "  — 

''  Yes,  sir  ? "  he  rejoined  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  finding 
that  the  secretary  stopped.     "  You  were  saying  "  — 

Gashford  meekly  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  looking  on 
the  ground  again,  was  silent. 

"No,  but  let  us  realh',"  interposed  Sir  John  at  this  junc- 
ture, "  let  us  really,  for  a  moment,  contemplate  the  very 
remarkable  character  of  this  meeting.  Haredale,  my  dear 
friend,  pardon  me  if  I  think  you  are  not  sufficiently  impressed 
with  its  singularity.  Here  we  stand,  by  no  previous  appoint- 
ment or  arrangement,  three  old  schoolfellows,  in  Westminster 
Hall :  three  old  boarders  in  a  remarkably  dull  and  shady 
seminary  at  St.  Omer's,  Avhere  you,  being  Catholics,  and  of 
necessity  educated  out  of  England,  were  brought  up  :  and 
where  I,  being  a  promising  young  Protestant  at  that  time, 
was  sent  to  learn  the  French  tongue  from  a  native  of  Paris ! " 

"Add  to  the  singularity^,  Sir  John,"  said  Mr.  Haredale, 
"  that  some  of  you  Protestants  of  promise  are  at  this  moment 
leagued  in  yonder  building,  to  prevent  our  having  the  sur- 
passing and  unheard-of  privilege  of  teaching  our  children  to 
read  and  write  —  here  —  in  this  land,  where  thousands  of  us 
enter  your  service  every  year,  and  to  preserve  the  freedom  of 
which,  we  die  in  bloody  battles  abroad,  in  heaps ;  and  that 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  375 

others  of  you,  to  the  number  of  some  thousands  as  I  learn, 
are  led  on  to  look  on  all  men  of  my  creed  as  wolves  and  beasts 
of  prey,  by  this  man  Gashford.  Add  to  it  besides,  the  bare 
fact  that  this  man  lives  in  society,  walks  the  streets  in  broad 
day  —  I  was  about  to  say,  holds  up  his  head,  but  that  he  does 
not  —  and  it  will  be  strange,  and  very  strange,  I  grant  you." 

"  Oh  !  you  are  hard  upon  our  friend,"  replied  Sir  John, 
with  an  engaging  smile.  "  You  are  really  very  hard  upon  our 
friend ! " 

"  Let  him  go  on.  Sir  John,"  said  Gashford,  fumbling  with 
his  gloves.  "Let  him  go  on,  I  can  make  allowances.  Sir 
John.  I  am  honored  with  your  good  opinion,  and  I  can  dis- 
pense with  Mr.  Haredale's.  ^Ir.  Haredale  is  a  sufferer  from 
the  penal  laws,  and  I  can't  expect  his  favor." 

"  You  have  so  much  of  my  favor,  sir,"  retorted  Mr.  Hare- 
dale,  with  a  bitter  glance  at  the  third  party  in  their  conversa- 
tion, "that  I  am  glad  to  see  you  in  such  good  company.  You 
are  the  essence  of  your  great  Association,  in  yourselves." 

"!N"ow,  there  you  mistake,"  said  Sir  John,  in  his  most 
benignant  way.  "  There  —  which  is  a  most  remarkable  cir- 
cumstance for  a  man  of  3'our  punctuality  and  exactness, 
Haredale — you  fall  into  an  error.  I  don't  belong  to  the 
body ;  I  have  an  immense  respect  for  its  members,  but  I  don't 
belong  to  it ;  although  I  am,  it  is  certainly  true,  the  conscien- 
tious opponent  of  your  being  relieved.  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
be  so ;  it  is  a  most  unfortunate  necessity ;  and  cost  me  a 
bitter  struggle.  —  Will  you  try  this  box  ?  If  you  don't 
object  to  a  trifling  infusion  of  a  very  chaste  scent,  you'll  find 
its  flavor  exquisite." 

"  I  ask  your  pardon.  Sir  John,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  declin- 
ing the  prott'er  with  a  motion  of  his  hand,  "  for  having  ranked 
you  among  the  humble  instruments  who  are  obvious  and  in 
all  men's  sight.  I  should  have  done  more  justice  to  your 
genius.  Men  of  your  capacity  plot  in  secrecy  and  safety,  and 
leave  exposed  posts  to  the  duller  wits.'' 

"Don't  apologize,  for  the  world,"  replied  Sir  John  sweetly; 
"old  friends  like  you  and  1,  may  be  allowed  some  freedoms, 
or  the  deuce  is  in  it." 

Gashford,  who  had  been  very  restless  all  this  time,  but  had 


376  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

not  once  looked  up,  now  turned  to  Sir  John,  and  ventured  to 
mutter  something  to  the  effect  that  he  must  go,  or  my  lord 
would  perhaps  be  waiting. 

"Don't  distress  yourself,  good  sir,"  said  Mr.  Haredale, 
"  I'll  take  my  leave,  and  put  you  at  your  ease  "  —  which  he 
was  about  to  do  without  ceremony,  when  he  was  stayed  by  a 
buzz  and  murmur  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  and,  looking 
in  that  direction,  saw  Lord  George  Gordon  coining  on,  with  a 
crowd  of  people  round  him. 

There  was  a  lurking  look  of  triumph,  though  very  differ- 
ently expressed,  in  the  faces  of  his  two  companions,  which 
made  it  a  natural  impulse  on  ^Ir.  Haredale's  part  not  to  give 
way  before  this  leader,  but  to  stand  there  while  he  passed. 
He  drew  himself  up,  and  clasping  his  hands  behind  him, 
looked  on  with  a  proud  and  scornful  aspect,  while  Lord 
George  slowly  advanced  (for  the  press  was  great  about  him) 
towards  the  spot  where  they  were  standing. 

He  had  left  the  House  of  Commons  but  that  moment,  and 
had  come  straight  down  into  the  hall,  bringing  with  him,  as 
his  custom  was,  intelligence  of  what  had  been  said  that  night 
in  reference  to  the  Papists,  and  what  petitions  had  been 
presented  in  their  favor,  and  who  had  supported  them,  and 
when  the  bill  was  to  be  brought  in,  and  when  it  would  be 
advisable  to  present  their  own  Great  Protestant  petition.  All 
this  he  told  the  persons  about  him  in  a  loud  voice,  and  with 
great  abundance  of  ungainly  gesture.  Those  who  were  near- 
est him  made  comments  to  each  other,  and  vented  threats 
and  murmurings ;  those  who  were  outside  the  crowd  cried 
"  Silence,"  and  "  Stand  back,"  or  closed  in  upon  the  rest, 
endeavoring  to  make  a  forcible  exchange  of  places :  and  so 
they  came  driving  on  in  a  very  disorderly  and  irregular  way, 
as  it  is  the  manner  of  a  crowd  to  do. 

When  they  were  very  near  to  where  the  Secretary,  Sir 
John,  and  Mr.  Haredale  stood,  Lord  George  turned  round, 
and,  making  a  few  remarks  of  a  sufficiently  violent  and  inco- 
herent kind,  concluded  with  the  usual  sentiment,  and  called 
for  three  cheers  to  back  it.  AVhile  these  were  in  the  act  of 
being  given  with  great  energy,  he  extricated  himself  from  the 
press,  and  stepped  up  to  Gash  ford's  side.     Both  he  and  Sir 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  377 

John  being  well  known  to  the  populace,  they  fell  back  a 
little,  and  left  the  four  standing  together. 

"Mr.  Haredale,  Lord  George,"  said  Sir  John  Chester,  seeing 
that  the  nobleman  regarded  him  with  an  inquisitive  look. 
"A  Catholic  gentleman  unfortunately  —  most  unhappily  a 
Catholic  —  but  an  esteemed  acquaintance  of  mine,  and  once 
of  Mr.  Gashford's.  My  dear  Haredale,  this  is  Lord  George 
Gordon." 

"  I  should  have  known  that,  had  I  been  ignorant  of  his 
lordship's  person,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "  I  hope  there  is  but 
one  gentleman  in  England  who,  addressing  an  ignorant  and 
excited  throng,  would  speak  of  a  large  body  of  his  fellow- 
subjects  in  such  injurious  language  as  I  heard  this  moment. 
For  shame,  my  lord,  for  shame  ! " 

"  I  cannot  talk  to  you,  sir,"  replied  Lord  George  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  waving  his  hand  in  a  disturbed  and  agitated 
manner;  ^^we  have  nothing  in  common." 

"We  have  much  in  common  —  many  things  —  all  that  the 
Almighty  gave  us,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  ;  "  and  common  charity, 
not  to  say  common-sense  and  common  decency,  should  teach 
you  to  refrain  from  these  proceedings.  If  every  one  of  those 
men  had  arms  in  their  hands  at  this  moment,  as  they  have 
them  in  their  heads,  I  would  not  leave  this  place  without 
telling  you  that  you  disgrace  your  station." 

"I  don't  hear  you,  sir,"  he  replied  in  the  same  manner  as 
before  ;  "  I  can't  hear  you.  It  is  indifferent  to  me  what  you 
say.  Don't  retort,  Gashford,"  for  the  secretary  had  made  a 
show  of  wishing  to  do  so ;  "I  can  hold  no  communion  with 
the  worshippers  of  idols." 

As  he  said  this,  he  glanced  at  Sir  John,  who  lifted  liis 
hands  and  eyebrows,  as  if  deploring  the  intemperate  conduct 
of  Mr.  Haredale,  and  smiled  in  admiration  of  the  crowd  and 
of  their  leader. 

"He  retort !"  cried  Haredale.  "Look  you  here,  my  lord. 
Do  you  know  tliis  man  ?  " 

Lord  George  replied  by  laying  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder 
of  his  cringing  secretary,  and  viewing  him  with  a  smile  of 
confidence. 

This  man,"  said  ]\Ir.  Haredale,  eying  liim  from  top  to  toe, 


a  'l 


378  BAIiNABY  RUDGE. 

"  who  in  his  boyhood  was  a  thief,  and  has  been  from  that 
time  to  this,  a  servile,  false,  and  truckling  knave :  this  man, 
who  has  crawled  and  crept  through  life,  wounding  the  hands 
he  licked,  and  biting  those  he  fawned  upon :  this  sycophant, 
who  never  knew  what  honor,  truth,  or  courage  meant;  who 
robbed  his  benefactor's  daughter  of  her  virtue,  and  married 
her  to  break  her  heart,  and  did  it,  with  stripes  and  cruelty : 
this  creature,  who  has  whined  at  kitchen  windows  for  the 
broken  food,  and  begged  for  halfpence  at  our  chapel  doors  : 
this  apostle  of  the  faith,  whose  tender  conscience  cannot  bear 
the  altars  where  his  vicious  life  was  publicly  denounced.  —  Do 
you  know  this  man  ?  " 

"  Oh,  really  —  you  are  ver}^,  very  hard  upon  our  friend !  " 
exclaimed  Sir  John. 

*'Let  Mr.  Haredale  go  on,"  said  Gashford,  upon  whose 
unwholesome  face  the  perspiration  had  broken  out  during  this 
speech,  in  blotches  of  wet ;  ''  I  don't  mind  him,  Sir  John ; 
it's  quite  as  indifferent  to  me  what  he  says,  as  it  is  to  my 
lord.  If  he  reviles  my  lord,  as  you  have  heard,  Sir  John,  how 
can  I  hope  to  escape  ?  " 

"  Is  it  not  enough,  my  lord,"  Mr.  Haredale  continued, 
'•  that  I,  as  good  a  gentleman  as  you,  must  hold  my  property, 
such  as  it  is,  by  a  trick  at  which  the  state  connives  because  of 
these  hard  laws  ;  and  that  we  may  not  teach  our  youth  in 
schools  the  common  principles  of  right  and  wrong ;  but  must 
we  be  denounced  and  ridden  by  such  men  as  this  !  Here  is  a 
man  to  head  your  Xo-Popery  cry  !     For  shame.     For  shame  !" 

The  infatuated  nobleman  had  glanced  more  than  once  at 
Sir  John  Chester,  as  if  to  inquire  whether  there  was  any 
truth  in  these  statements  concerning  Gashford,  and  Sir  John 
had  as  often  plainly  answered  by  a  shrug  or  look,  "  Oh,  dear 
me  !  no."  He  now  said,  in  the  same  loud  key,  and  in  the 
same  strange  manner  as  before,  — 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,  sir,  in  reply,  and  no  desire  to  hear 
anything  more.  I  beg  you  won't  obtrude  your  conversation, 
or  these  personal  attacks,  upon  me.  I  shall  not  be  deterred 
from  doing  my  duty  to  my  country  and  my  countrymen,  by 
any  such  attempts,  whether  they  proceed  from  emissaries  of 
the  Pope  or  not,  I  assure  you.     Come,  Gashford  !  " 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  379 

They  had  walked  on  a  few  paces  while  speaking,  and  were 
now  at  the  Hall-door,  through  which  they  passed  together. 
Mr.  Haredale,  without  any  leave-taking,  turned  away  to  the 
river  stairs,  which  were  close  at  hand,  and  hailed  the  only 
boatman  who  remained  there. 

But  the  throng  of  people  —  the  foremost  of  whom  had 
heard  every  word  that  Lord  George  Gordon  said,  and  among 
all  of  whom  the  rumor  had  been  rapidly  dispersed  that  the 
stranger  was  a  papist  who  was  bearding  him  for  his  advocacy 
of  the  popular  cause — came  pouring  out  pell-mell,  and, 
forcing  the  nobleman,  his  secretary,  and  Sir  John  Chester  on 
before  them,  so  that  they  appeared  to  be  at  their  head, 
crowded  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  where  Mr.  Haredale  waited 
until  the  boat  was  ready,  and  there  stood  still,  leaving  him  on 
a  little  clear  space  by  himself. 

They  were  not  silent,  however,  though  inactive.  At  first 
some  indistinct  mutterings  arose  among  them,  which  were 
followed  by  a  hiss  or  two,  and  these  swelled  by  degrees  into 
a  perfect  storm.  Then  one  voice  said,  '-  Down  with  the 
Papists  !  "  and  there  was  a  pretty  general  cheer,  but  nothing 
more.  After  a  lull  of  a  few  moments,  one  man  cried  out, 
"  Stone  him  ; '-  another,  "  Duck  him  ;  "  another,  in  a  stentorian 
voice,  "  No  Popery  !  "  This  favorite  cry  the  rest  re-echoed, 
and  the  mob,  which  might  have  been  two  hundred  strong, 
joined  in  a  general  shout. 

Mr.  Haredale  had  stood  calmly  on  the  brink  of  the  steps, 
until  they  made  this  demonstration,  when  he  looked  round 
contemptuously,  and  walked  at  a  slow  pace  down  the  stairs. 
He  was  pretty  near  the  boat,  when  Gashford,  as  if  without 
intention,  turned  about,  and  directly  afterwards  a  great  stone 
was  thrown  by  some  hand,  in  the  crowd,  which  struck  him  on 
the  head,  and  made  him  stagger  like  a  drunken  man. 

The  blood  sprung  freely  from  the  wound,  and  trickled  down 
his  coat.  He  turned  directly,  and  rusliing  up  the  steps 
witli  a  boldness  and  passion  which  made  them  all  fall  back, 
demanded,  — 

"  Who  did  that  ?     Show  me  the  man  who  liit  me." 

Not  a  soul  moved ;  except  some  in  the  rear  who  slunk  off, 
and,  escaping  to  the  other  side  of  the  way,  looked  on  like 
indifferent  spectators. 


380  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Who  did  that  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Show  me  the  man  who 
did  it.  Dog,  was  it  you  ?  It  was  your  deed,  if  not  your  hand 
—  I  know  you." 

He  threw  himself  on  Gashford  as  he  said  the  words,  and 
hurled  him  to  the  ground.  There  was  a  sudden  motion  in 
the  crowd,  and  some  laid  hands  upon  him,  but  his  sword  was 
out,  and  they  fell  off  again. 

"  My  lord  —  Sir  John,"  —  he  cried,  "  draw,  one  of  you  —  you 
are  responsible  for  this  outrage,  and  I  look  to  you.  Draw,  if 
you  are  gentlemen."  With  that  he  struck  Sir  John  upon  the 
breast  with  the  flat  of  his  weapon,  and  with  a  burning  face 
and  flashing  eyes  stood  upon  his  guard ;  alone,  before  them 
all. 

For  an  instant,  for  the  briefest  space  of  time  the  mind  can 
readily  conceive,  there  was  a  change  in  Sir  John's  smooth 
face,  such  as  no  man  ever  saw  there.  The  next  moment,  he 
stepped  forward,  and  laid  one  hand  on  Mr.  Haredale's  arm, 
while  with  the  other  he  endeavored  to  appease  the  crowd. 

"  My  dear  friend,  my  good  Haredale,  you  are  blinded  with 
passion  —  it's  very  natural,  extremely  natural  —  but  you  don't 
know  friends  from  foes." 

"  I  know  them  all,  sir,  I  can  distinguish  well  "  —  he 
retorted,  almost  mad  with  rage.  '•  Sir  John,  Lord  George  — 
do  you  hear  me  ?     Are  you  cowards  ?  " 

"Never  mind,  sir,"  said  a  man,  forcing  his  way  between 
and  pushing  him  towards  the  stairs  with  friendly  violence, 
"  never  mind  asking  that.  For  God's  sake,  get  away.  What 
ca7i  you  do  against  this  number  ?  And  there  are  as  many 
more  in  the  next  street,  who'll  be  round  directly,"  —  indeed 
they  began  to  pour  in  as  he  said  the  words  —  "  you'd  be  giddy 
from  that  cut,  in  the  first  heat  of  a  scuffle.  Xow  do  retire, 
sir,  or  take  my  word  for  it  you'll  be  worse  used  than  you 
would  be  if  every  man  in  the  crowd  was  a  woman,  and  that 
woman  Bloody  Mary.  Come,  sir,  make  haste  —  as  quick  as 
you  can." 

jNIr.  Haredale,  who  began  to  turn  faint  and  sick,  felt  how 
sensible  this  advice  was,  and  descended  the  steps  with  his 
unknown  friend's  assistance.  John  Grueby  (for  John  it  was), 
helped  him  into  the  boat,  and  giving  her  a  shove  off,  which 


GASHFORD    STRUCK    DOWN. 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  381 

sent  her  thirty  feet  into  the  tide,  bade  the  waterman  pull 
away  like  a  Briton  ;  and  walked  up  again  as  composedly  as  if 
he  had  just  landed. 

There  was  at  first  a  slight  disposition  on  the  part  of  the 
mob  to  resent  this  interference  ;  but  John  looking  particularly 
strong  and  cool,  and  wearing  besides  Lord  George's  livery, 
they  thought  better  of  it,  and  contented  themselves  with 
sending  a  shower  of  small  missiles  about  the  boat,  which 
plashed  harmlessly  in  the  water ;  for  she  had  by  this  time 
cleared  the  bridge,  and  was  darting  swiftly  down  the  centre 
of  the  stream. 

From  this  amusement,  they  proceeded  to  giving  Protestant 
knocks  at  the  doors  of  private  houses,  breaking  a  few  lamps, 
and  assaulting  some  stray  constables.  But,  it  being  whispered 
that  a  detachment  of  Life  Guards  had  been  sent  for,  they 
took  to  their  heels  with  great  expedition,  and  left  the  street 
quite  clear. 


382  BAIiyABY  liUDGE. 


CHAPTEE   XLIY. 

Whex  the  concourse  separated,  and,  dividing  into  chance 
clusters,  drew  off  in  various  directions,  there  still  remained 
upon  the  scene  of  the  late  disturbance,  one  man.  This  man 
was  Gashford,  who,  bruised  by  his  late  fall,  and  hurt  in  a 
much  greater  degree  by  the  indignity  he  had  undergone,  and 
the  exposure  of  which  he  had  been  the  victim,  limped  up  and 
down,  breathing  curses  and  threats  of  vengeance. 

It  was  not  the  secretary's  nature  to  waste  his  wrath  in 
words.  While  he  vented  the  froth  of  his  malevolence  in  these 
effusions,  he  kept  a  steady  eye  on  two  men,  who,  having  dis- 
appeared with  the  rest  when  the  alarm  w^as  spread,  had  since 
returned,  and  were  now  visible  in  the  moonlight,  at  no  great 
distance,  as  they  walked  to  any  fro,  and  talked  together. 

He  made  no  move  towards  them,  but  waited  patiently  on 
the  dark  side  of  the  street,  until  the}'  were  tired  of  strolling 
backwards  and  forwards  and  walked  away  in  company.  Then 
he  followed,  but  at  some  distance  :  keeping  them  in  view, 
without  appearing  to  have  that  object,  or  being  seen  by  them. 

They  went  up  Parliament  Street,  past  Saint  Martin's  church, 
and  away  by  Saint  Giles's  to  Tottenham  Court  Road,  at  the 
back  of  which,  upon  the  western  side,  was  then  a  place  called 
the  Green  Lanes.  This  was  a  retired  spot,  not  of  the  choicest 
kind,  leading  into  the  fields.  Great  heaps  of  ashes  ;  stagnant 
pools,  overgrown  with  rank  grass  and  duckweed ;  broken 
turnstiles  ;  and  the  upright  posts  of  palings  long  since  carried 
off  for  firewood,  which  menaced  all  heedless  walkers  with  their 
jagged  and  rusty  nails ;  were  the  leading  features  of  the  land- 
scape ;  while  here  and  there  a  donkey,  or  a  ragged  horse, 
tethered  to  a  stake,  and  cropping  off  a  w^retched  meal  from  the 
coarse  stunted  turf,  were  quite  in  keeping  with  the  scene,  and 
would  have  suggested  (if  the  houses  had  not  done  so,  suffi- 
ciently, of  themselves)  how  very  poor  the  people  were  who  lived 


BAENABY  RUDGE.  383 

ill  the  crazy  huts  adjacent,  and  how  fool-hardy  it  might  prove 
for  one  who  carried  money,  or  wore  decent  clothes,  to  walk 
that  way  alone,  unless  by  daylight. 

Poverty  has  its  whims  and  shows  of  taste,  as  wealth  has. 
Some  of  these  cabins  were  turreted,  some  had  false  windows 
painted  on  their  rotten  walls ;  one  had  a  mimic  clock  upon  a 
crazy  tower  of  four  feet  high,  which  screened  the  chimney ; 
each  in  its  little  patch  of  ground  had  a  rude  seat  or  arbor. 
The  population  dealt  in  bones,  in  rags,  in  broken  glass,  in 
old  wheels,  in  birds,  and  dogs.  These,  in  their  several  ways 
of  stowage,  filled  the  gardens ;  and  shedding  a  perfume,  not 
of  the  most  delicious  nature,  in  the  air,  filled  it  besides  with 
yelps,  and  screams,  and  howling. 

Into  this  retreat,  the  secretary  followed  the  two  men  whom 
he  had  held  in  sight;  and  here  he  saw  them  safely  lodged,  in 
one  of  the  meanest  houses,  which  was  but  a  room,  and  that  of 
small  dimensions.  He  waited  without,  until  the  sound  of 
their  voices,  joined  in  a  discordant  song,  assured  him  they 
were  making  merry  ;  and  then  approaching  the  door,  by  means 
of  a  tottering  plank  which  crossed  the  ditch  in  front,  knocked 
at  it  with  his  hand. 

"  Muster  Gashford !  "  said  the  man  who  opened  it,  taking 
his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  in  evident  surprise.  "  Why,  who'd 
have  thought  of  this  here  honor  !  AValk  in,  Muster  Gashford 
—  walk  in,  sir." 

Gashford  required  no  second  invitation,  and  entered  with  a 
gracious  air.  There  was  a  fire  in  the  rusty  grate  (for  though 
the  spring  was  pretty  far  advanced,  the  nights  were  cold),  and 
on  a  stool  beside  it  Hugh  sat  smoking.  Dennis  placed  a  chair, 
his  only  one,  for  the  secretary,  in  front  of  the  hearth  ;  and 
took  his  seat  again  upon  the  stool  he  had  left  when  he  rose  to 
give  the  visitor  admission. 

"  What's  in  the  wind  now.  Muster  Gashford  ?  "  he  said,  as 
he  resumed  his  pipe,  and  looked  at  him  askew.  "  Any  orders 
from  headquarters  ?  Are  we  going  to  begin  ?  What  is  it. 
Muster  Gashford?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  rejoined  the  secretary  with  a 
friendly  nod  to  Hugh.  "We  have  broken  the  ice,  though. 
We  had  a  little  spurt  to-day  —  eh,  Dennis  ?  " 


384  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"A  very  little  one,"  growled  the  hangman.  "Not  half 
enough  for  me." 

"  Nor  me  neither  !  "  cried  Hugh.  "  Give  us  something  to  do 
with  life  in  it  —  with  life  in  it,  master.     Ha,  ha  !  " 

"  Why,  you  wouldn't,"  said  the  secretary,  with  his  worst 
expression  of  face,  and  in  his  mildest  tones,  "  have  anything 
to  do,  -with.  —  with  death  in  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  replied  Hugh.  "  I'm  open  to  orders. 
I  don't  care  ;  not  I." 

"  Nor  I !  "  vociferated  Dennis. 

"  Brave  fellows  !  "  said  the  secretary,  in  as  pastor-like  a 
voice  as  if  he  were  commending  them  for  some  uncommon  act 
of  valor  and  generosity.  "  By-the-by "  —  and  here  he 
stopped  and  warmed  his  hands:  then  suddenly  looked  up  — 
"  who  threw  that  stone  to-day  ?  " 

Mr.  Dennis  coughed  and  shook  his  head,  as  who  should  say, 
"  A  mystery  indeed  ! "     Hugh  sat  and  smoked  in  silence. 

"  It  was  well  done  !  "  said  the  secretary,  warming  his  hands 
again.     "  I  should  like  to  know  that  man." 

"Would  you?"  said  Dennis,  after  looking  at  his  face  to 
assure  himself  that  he  was  serious.  "Would  you  like  to 
know  that  man,  Muster  Gashford  ?  " 

"  I  should  indeed,"  replied  the  secretary. 

"Why  then,  Lord  love  you,"  said  the  hangman,  in  his 
hoarsest  chuckle,  as  he  pointed  with  his  pipe  to  Hugh,  "  there 
he  sets.  That's  the  man.  ^My  stars  and  halters.  Muster 
Gashford,"  he  added  in  a  whisper,  as  he  drew  his  stool  close 
to  him  and  jogged  him  with  his  elbow,  "what  a  interesting 
blade  he  is  !  He  wants  as  much  holding  in  as  a  thorough- 
bred bulldog.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  me  to-day,  he'd  have  had 
that  'ere  Boman  down,  and  made  a  riot  of  it,  in  another 
minute." 

"And  why  not  ?  "  cried  Hugh  in  a  surly  voice,  as  he  over- 
heard this  last  remark.  "  Where's  the  good  of  putting  things 
off  ?     Strike  while  the  iron's  hot ;  that's  what  I  say." 

"  Ah  ! "  retorted  Dennis,  shaking  his  head,  with  a  kind  of 
pity  for  his  friend's  ingenuous  youth;  "but  suppose  the  iron 
ain't  hot,  brother  ?  You  must  get  people's  blood  up  afore  you 
strike,    and    have    'em   in    the    humor.     There    wasn't   quite 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  385 

enough  to  provoke  'em  to-day,  I  tell  you.  If  you'd  had  your 
way,  you'd  have  spoilt  the  fun  to  come,  and  ruined  us." 

"  Dennis  is  quite  right,"  said  Gashford,  smoothly.  "  He  is 
perfectly  correct.     Dennis  has  great  knowledge  of  the  world." 

"I  ought  to  have.  Muster  Gashford,  seeing  what  a  many 
people  I've  helped  out  of  it,  eh  ? "  grinned  the  hangman, 
whispering  the  words  behind  his  hand. 

The  secretary  laughed  at  this,  just  as  much  as  Dennis  could 
desire,  and  when  he  had  done,  said,  turning  to  Hugh,  — 

"Dennis's  policy  was  mine,  as  you  may  have  observed. 
You  saw,  for  instance,  how  I  fell  when  I  was  set  upon.  I 
made  no  resistance.  I  did  nothing  to  provoke  an  outbreak. 
Oh  dear  no  !  " 

"  No,  by  the  Lord  Harry  ! "  cried  Dennis  with  a  noisy 
laugh,  "  you  went  down  very  quiet,  Muster  Gashford  —  and 
very  flat  besides.  I  thinks  to  myself  at  the  time  'it's  all  up 
with  IMuster  Gashford  ! '  I  never  see  a  man  lay  flatter  nor 
more  still  —  with  the  life  in  him  —  than  you  did  to-day.  He's 
a  rough  'un  to  play  with,  is  that  'ere  Papist,  and  that's  the 
fact." 

The  secretary's  face,  as  Dennis  roared  with  laughter,  and 
turned  his  wrinkled  eyes  on  Hugh  who  did  the  like,  might 
have  furnished  a  study  for  the  Devil's  picture.  He  sat  quite 
silent  until  they  were  serious  again,  and  then  said,  looking 
round,  — 

"  We  are  very  pleasant  here  ;  so  very  pleasant,  Dennis, 
that  but  for  my  lord's  particular  desire  that  I  should  sup  with 
him,  and  the  time  being  very  near  at  hand,  I  should  be 
inclined  to  stay,  until  it  would  be  hardly  safe  to  go  homeward. 
I  come  upon  a  little  business  —  yes,  I  do  —  as  you  supposed. 
It's  very  flattering  to  you  ;  being  this.  If  we  ever  should  be 
obliged  —  and  we  can't  tell,  you  know  — this  is  a  very  uncer- 
tain world  "  — 

"  I  believe  you,  Muster  Gashford,"  interposed  the  hangman 
with  a  grave  nod.  "  The  uncertainties  as  I've  seen  in  refer- 
ence to  this  here  state  of  existence,  the  unexpected  contin- 
gencies as  have  come  about  !  —  Oh  my  eye  !  "  Feeling  the 
subject  much  too  vast  for  expression,  he  puffed  at  his  i)ipe 
again,  and  looked  the  rest. 

VOL.  I. 


386  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"I  say,"  resumed  the  secretary,  in  a  slow,  impressive  wa}-  ; 
"  we  can't  tell  what  may  come  to  pass  ;  and  if  we  should  be 
obliged  against  our  wills,  to  have  recourse  to  violence,  my 
lord  (who  has  suffered  terribly  to-day  as  far  as  words  can 
go)  consigns  to  you  two  —  bearing  in  mind  my  recommenda- 
tion of  you  both,  as  good  stanch  men,  beyond  all  doubt  and 
suspicion  —  the  pleasant  task  of  punishing  this  Haredale. 
You  may  do  as  you  please  with  him  or  his,  provided  that  you 
show  no  mercy,  and  no  quarter,  and  leave  no  two  beams 
of  his  house  standing  where  the  builder  placed  them.  You 
may  sack  it,  burn  it,  do  with  it  as  you  like,  but  it  must  come 
down ;  it  must  be  razed  to  the  ground ;  and  he,  and  all 
belonging  to  him,  left  as  shelterless  as  new-born  infants 
whom  their  mothers  have  exposed.  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 
said  Gashford,  pausing  and  pressing  his  hands  together 
gently. 

"  Understand  you,  master ! "  cried  Hugh.  ^'  You  speak 
plain  now.     Why,  this  is  hearty  !  " 

'•  I  knew  you  would  like  it,"  said  Gashford,  shaking  him 
by  the  hand ;  "  I  thought  you  would.  Good-night !  Don't 
rise,  Dennis :  I  would  rather  find  my  way  alone.  I  may 
have  to  make  other  visits  here,  and  it's  pleasant  to  come  and 
go  without  disturbing  you.  I  can  find  my  way  perfectly  well. 
Good-night ! " 

He  was  gone,  and  had  shut  the  door  behind  him.  They 
looked  at  each  other,  and  nodded  approvingly  :  Dennis  stirred 
up  the  fire. 

"  This  looks  a  little  more  like  business  I  "  he  said. 

"Ay,  indeed  !  "  cried  Hugh ;  "  this  suits  me  !  " 

"I've  heerd  it  said  of  Muster  Gashford,"  said  the  hang- 
man, "that  he'd  a  surprising  memory  and  wonderful  firmness 
—  that  he  never  forgot,  and  never  forgave.  —  Let's  drink  his 
health ! " 

Hugh  readily  complied  —  pouring  no  liquor  on  the  floor 
when  he  drank  this  toast  —  and  they  pledged  the  secretary  as 
a  man  after  their  own  hearts  in  a  bumper. 


BAHyAUr  IIULGE.  38/ 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

While  the  worst  passions  of  the  worst  men  were  thus 
working  in  the  dark,  and  the  mantle  of  religion,  assumed  to 
cover  the  ugliest  deformities,  threatened  to  become  the  sliroud 
of  all  that  was  good  and  peaceful  in  society,  a  circumstance 
occurred  which  once  more  altered  the  position  of  two  persons 
from  whom  this  history  has  long  been  separated,  and  to 
whom  it  must  now  return. 

In  a  small  English  country  town,  the  inhabitants  of  which 
supported  themselves  by  the  labor  of  their  hands  in  plaiting 
and  preparing  straw  for  those  who  made  bonnets  and  other 
articles  of  dress  and  ornament  from  that  material,  —  concealed 
under  an  assumed  name,  and  living  in  a  quiet  poverty  which 
knew  no  change,  no  pleasures,  and  few  cares  but  that  of 
struggling  on  from  day  to  day  in  the  one  great  toil  for  bread, 
—  dwelt  Barnaby  and  his  mother.  Their  poor  cottage  had 
known  no  stranger's  foot  since  they  sought  the  shelter  of  its 
roof  five  years  before  ;  nor  had  they  in  all  that  time  held  any 
commerce  or  communication  with  the  old  world  from  which 
they  had  fled.  To  labor  in  peace,  and  devote  her  labor  and 
her  life  to  her  poor  son,  was  all  the  widow  sought.  If  happiness 
can  be  said  at  any  time  to  be  the  lot  of  one  on  whom  a  secret 
sorrow  preys,  she  was  happy  now.  Tranquillity,  resignation, 
and  her  strong  love  of  him  who  needed  it  so  much,  formed 
the  small  circle  of  her  quiet  joys ;  and  while  that  remained 
unbroken,  she  was  contented. 

For  Barnaby  himself,  the  time  which  had  flown  by  had 
passed  him  like  the  wind.  The  daily  suns  of  3-ears  had  shed 
no  brighter  gleam  of  reason  on  his  mind ;  no  dawn  had 
broken  on  his  long,  dark  night.  He  would  sit  sometimes  — 
often  for  days  together  —  on  a  low  seat  by  the  fire  or  by  the 
cottage  door,  busy  at  work  (for  he  had  learned  the  art  his 
mother  plied),  and  listening,  God  help  him,  to  the  tales  she 


388  BABNABT  BUDGE. 

would  repeat  as  a  lure  to  keep  Liiu  in  her  sight.  He  had  no 
recollection  of  these  little  narratives ;  the  tale  of  yesterday 
was  new  upon  the  morrow ;  but  he  liked  them  at  the 
moment;  and  when  the  humor  held  him,  would  remain 
patiently  within  doors,  hearing  her  stories  like  a  little  child, 
and  working  cheerfully  from  sunrise  until  it  was  too  dark  to 
see. 

At  other  times,  —  and  then  their  scanty  earnings  were  barely 
sufficient  to  furnish  them  with  food,  though  of  the  coarsest 
sort,  —  he  would  wander  abroad  from  dawn  of  da}^  until  the 
twilight  deepened  into  night.  Few  in  that  place,  even  of  the 
children,  could  be  idle,  and  he  had  no  companions  of  his  own 
kind.  Indeed  there  were  not  many  who  could  have  kept  up 
with  him  in  his  rambles,  had  there  been  a  legion.  But 
there  were  a  score  of  vagabond  dogs  belonging  to  the 
neighbors,  who  served  his  purpose  quite  as  well.  With  two 
or  three  of  these,  or  sometimes  with  a  full  half-dozen  barking 
at  his  heels,  he  would  sally  forth  on  some  long  expedition  that 
consumed  the  day ;  and  though  on  their  return  at  nightfall^ 
the  dogs  would  come  home  limping  and  sore-footed,  and 
almost  spent  with  their  fatigue,  Barnaby  was  up  and  off  again 
at  sunrise  with  some  new  attendants  of  the  same  class,  with 
whom  he  would  return  in  like  manner.  On  all  these  travels. 
Grip,  in  his  little  basket  at  his  master's  back,  was  a  constant 
member  of  the  party,  and,  when  they  set  off  in  fine  weather 
and  in  high  spirits,  no  dog  barked  louder  than  the  raven. 

Their  pleasures  on  these  excursions  were  simple  enough. 
A  crust  of  bread  and  scrap  of  meat,  with  water  from  the 
brook  or  spring,  sufficed  for  their  repast.  Barnaby 's  enjoy- 
ments were,  to  walk,  and  run,  and  leap,  till  he  was  tired; 
then  to  lie  down  on  the  long  grass,  or  by  the  growing  corn, 
or  in  the  shade  of  some  tall  tree,  looking  upward  at  the 
light  clouds  as  they  floated  over  the  blue  surface  of  the  sky, 
and  listening  to  the  lark  as  she  poured  out  her  brilliant  song. 
There  were  wild  flowers  to  pluck  —  the  bright  red  poppy,  the 
gentle  harebell,  the  cowslip,  and  the  rose.  There  were  birds 
to  watch ;  fish ;  ants ;  worms ;  hares  or  rabbits,  as  they 
darted  across  the  distant  pathway  in  the  wood  and  so  were 
gone :  millions  of  living  things  to  have  an  interest  in,  and  lie 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  389 

in  wait  for,  and  clap  hands  and  shout  in  memory  of,  when 
they  had  disappeared.  In  default  of  these,  or  when  they 
wearied,  there  was  the  merr}^  sunlight  to  hunt  out,  as  it  crept 
in  aslant  through  leaves  and  boughs  of  trees,  and  hid  far 
down  —  deep,  deep,  in  hollow  places  —  like  a  silver  pool,  where 
nodding  branches  seemed  to  bathe  and  sport ;  sweet  scents  of 
summer  air  breathing  over  fields  of  beans  or  clover;  the 
perfume  of  wet  leaves  or  moss ;  the  life  of  waving  trees,  and 
shadows  always  changing.  When  these  or  any  of  them  tired, 
or  in  excess  of  pleasing  tempted  him  to  shut  his  eyes,  there 
was  slumber  in  the  midst  of  all  these  soft  delights,  with  the 
gentle  wind  murmuring  like  music  in  his  ears,  and  everything 
around  melting  into  one  delicious  dream. 

Their  hut  —  for  it  was  little  more  —  stood  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  high  road,  but  in  a 
secluded  place^  where  few  chance  passengers  strayed  at  any 
season  of  the  year.  It  had  a  plot  of  garden-ground  attached, 
which  Barnaby,  in  fits  and  starts  of  working,  trimmed,  and 
kept  in  order.  Within  doors  and  without,  his  mother 
labored  for  their  common  good ;  and  hail,  rain,  snow,  or 
sunshine,  found  no  difference  in  her. 

Though  so  far  removed  from  the  scenes  of  her  past  life, 
and  with  so  little  thought  or  hope  of  ever  visiting  them  again, 
she  seemed  to  have  a  strange  desire  to  know  what  happened 
in  the  busy  world.  Any  old  newspaper,  or  scrap  of  intelli- 
gence from  London,  she  caught  at  with  avidity.  The  excite- 
ment it  produced  was  not  of  a  pleasurable  kind,  for  her 
manner  at  such  times  expressed  the  keenest  anxiety  and  dread  ; 
but  it  never  faded  in  the  least  degree.  Then,  and  in  stormy 
winter  nights,  when  the  wind  blew  loud  and  strong,  the  old 
expression  came  into  her  face,  and  she  would  be  seized  with  a 
fit  of  trembling,  like  one  who  had  an  ague.  But  Barnaby 
noted  little  of  this ;  and  putting  a  great  constraint  upon 
herself,  she  usually  recovered  her  accustomed  manner  before 
the  change  had  caught  his  observation. 

Grip  was  by  no  means  an  idle  or  unprofitable  member  of 
the  humble  household.  Partly  by  dint  of  Barnaby's  tuition, 
and  partly  by  pursuing  a  species  of  self-instruction  common 
to  his  tribe,  and  exerting  his  powers  of  observation  to  tlie 


390  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

utmost,  he  had  acquired  a  degree  of  sagacity  which  rendered 
him  famous  for  miles  round.  His  conversational  powers  and 
surprising  performances  were  the  universal  theme;  and  as 
many  persons  came  to  see  the  wonderful  raven,  and  none  left 
his  exertions  unrewarded  —  when  he  condescended  to  exhibit, 
which  was  not  always,  for  genius  is  capricious — his  earnings 
formed  an  important  item  in  the  common  stock.  Indeed,  the 
bird  himself  appeared  to  know  his  value  well;  for  though 
he  was  perfectly  free  and  unrestrained  in  the  presence  of 
Barnaby  and  his  mother,  he  maintained  in  public  an  amazing 
gravity,  and  never  stooped  to  any  other  gratuitous  per- 
formances than  biting  the  ankles  of  vagabond  boys  (an 
exercise  in  which  he  much  delighted),  killing  a  fowl  or  two 
occasionally,  and  swallowing  the  dinners  of  various  neigh- 
boring dogs,  of  whom  the  boldest  held  him  in  great  awe  and 
dread. 

Time  had  glided  on  in  this  way,  and  nothing  had  happened 
to  disturb  or  change  their  mode  of  life,  when,  one  summer's 
night  in  June,  they  were  in  their  little  garden,  resting  from 
the  labors  of  the  day.  The  widow's  work  was  yet  upon  her 
knee,  and  strewn  upon  the  ground  about  her ;  and  Barnaby 
stood  leaning  on  his  spade,  gazing  at  the  brightness  in  the 
west,  and  singing  softly  to  himself. 

"  A  brave  evening,  mother !  If  we  had,  chinking  in  our 
pockets,  but  a  few  specks  of  that  gold  which  is  piled  up 
yonder  in  the  sky,  we  should  be  rich  for  life." 

"We  are  better  as  we  are,"  returned  the  widow  with  a 
quiet  smile.  ''Let  us  be  contented,  and  we  do  not  want 
and  need  not  care  to  have  it,  though  it  lay  shining  at  our 
feet." 

"  Ay  !  "  said  Barnaby,  resting  with  crossed  arms  on  his 
spade,  and  looking  wistfully  at  the  sunset,  "that's  well 
enough,  mother  ;  but  gold's  a  good  thing  to  have.  I  wish 
that  I  knew  where  to  find  it.  Grip  and  I  could  do  much  with 
gold,  be  sure  of  that." 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What !  A  world  of  things.  We'd  dress  finely  —  you  and 
I,  I  mean ;  not  Grip  —  keep  horses,  dogs,  wear  bright  colors 
and  feathers,  do  no  more  work,  live  delicately  and  at  our  ease. 


BAliNABT  BUDGE.  391 

Oh,  we'd  find  uses  for  it,  mother,  and  uses  that  would  do  us 
good.  I  would  I  knew  where  gold  was  buried.  How  hard  I'd 
work  to  dig  it  up  ! '' 

"  You  do  not  know,"  said  his  mother,  rising  from  her  seat, 
and  laying  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  "what  men  have  done 
to  win  it,  and  how  they  have  found,  too  late,  that  it  glitters 
briglitest  at  a  distance,  and  turns  quite  dim  and  dull  when 
handled.'' 

''  Ay,  ay ;  so  you  say ;  so  you  think,"  he  answered,  still 
looking  eagerly  in  the  same  direction.  '•  For  all  that,  mother, 
I  should  like  to  try." 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  she  said,  "  how  red  it  is  ?  Nothing 
bears  so  many  stains  of  blood,  as  gold.  Avoid  it.  None 
have  such  cause  to  hate  its  name  as  we  have.  Do  not  so 
much  as  think  of  it,  dear  love.  It  has  brought  such  misery 
and  suffering  on  your  head  and  mine  as  few  have  known,  and 
God  grant  few  may  have  to  undergo.  I  would  rather  we 
w6re  dead  and  laid  down  in  our  graves,  than  you  should  ever 
come  to  love  it." 

For  a  moment  Barnaby  withdrew  his  eyes  and  looked  at 
her  with  wonder.  Then,  glancing  from  the  redness  in  the 
sky  to  the  mark  upon  his  wrist  as  if  he  would  compare  the 
two,  he  seemed  about  to  question  her  with  earnestness,  when 
a  new  object  caught  his  wandering  attention,  and  made  him 
quite  forgetful  of  his  purpose. 

This  was  a  man  with  dusty  feet  and  garments,  who  stood, 
bareheaded,  behind  the  hedge  that  divided  their  patch  or 
garden  from  the  pathway,  and  leaned  meekly  forward  as  if  he 
sought  to  mingle  with  their  conversation,  and  waited  for  his 
time  to  speak.  His  face  was  turned"  towards  the  brightness, 
too,  but  the  light  that  fell  upon  it  showed  that  he  was  blind, 
and  saw  it  not. 

''A  blessing  on  those  voices  !  "  said  the  wayfarer.  "  I  feel 
the  beauty  of  the  night  more  keenly,  wlien  I  hear  them. 
They  are  like  eyes  to  me.  Will  they  speak  again,  and  cheer 
the  heart  of  a  poor  traveller  ?  " 

"  Have  you  no  guide  ?  "  asked  the  widow,  after  a  moment's 
pause. 

"  None    but   that,"    he  answered,    i)uinting   with   liis  staff 


392  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

towards  the  sun  ;  "  and  sometimes  a  milder  one  at  night,  but 
she  is  idle  now." 

"  Have  you  travelled  far  ?  " 

"  A  weary  way  and  long,"  rejoined  the  traveller  as  he 
shook  his  head.  "  A  weary,  weary,  way.  I  struck  my  stick 
just  now  upon  the  bucket  of  your  well  —  be  pleased  to  let  me 
have  a  draught  of  water,  lady." 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  lady  ?  "  she  returned.  "  I  am  as 
poor  as  you." 

"  Your  speech  is  soft  and  gentle,  and  I  judge  by  that," 
replied  the  man.  "  The  coarsest  stuffs  and  finest  silks,  are  — 
apart  from  the  sense  of  touch  —  alike  to  me.  I  cannot  judge 
you  by  your  dress." 

"  Come  round  this  way,"  said  Barnaby,  who  had  passed  out 
at  the  garden  gate  and  now  stood  close  beside  him.  "Put 
your  hand  in  mine.  You're  blind  and  always  in  the  dark,  eh  ? 
Are  you  frightened  in  the  dark  ?  Do  you  see  great  crowds  of 
faces,  now  ?     Do  they  grin  and  chatter  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  "  returned  the  other,  "  I  see  nothing.  Waking  or 
sleeping,  nothing." 

Barnaby  looked  curiously  at  his  eyes,  and  touching  them 
with  his  fingers,  as  an  inquisitive  child  might,  led  him  towards 
the  house. 

"  You  have  come  a  long  distance,"  said  the  widow,  meet- 
ing him  at  the  door.  How  have  you  found  your  way  so 
far  ?  " 

"Use  and  necessity  are  good  teachers,  as  I  have  heard  — 
the  best  of  any,"  said  the  blind  man,  sitting  down  upon  the 
chair  to  which  Barnaby  had  led  him,  and  putting  his  hat  and 
stick  upon  the  red-tiled  floor.  "May  neither  you  nor  your  son 
ever  learn  under  them.     They  are  rough  masters." 

"  You  have  wandered  from  the  road,  too,"  said  the  widow, 
in  a  tone  of  pity. 

"  Maybe,  maybe,"  returned  the  blind  man  with  a  sigh,  and 
yet  with  something  of  a  smile  upon  his  face,  "  that's  likely. 
Handposts  and  milestones  are  dumb,  indeed,  to  me.  Thank 
you  the  more  for  this  rest,  and  this  refreshing  drink  ! " 

As  he  spoke,  he  raised  the  mug  of  water  to  his  mouth.  It 
was  clear,  and  cold,  and  sparkling,  but  not  to  his  taste  never- 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  393 

theless,  or  his  thirst  was  not  very  great,  for  he  only  wetted 
his  lips  and  put  it  down  again. 

He  wore,  hanging  with  a  long  strap  round  his  neck,  a  kind 
of  scrip  or  wallet,  in  which  to  carry  food.  The  widow  set 
some  bread  and  cheese  before  him,  but  he  thanked  her,  and 
said  that  through  the  kindness  of  the  charitable  he  had  broken 
his  fast  once  since  morning,  and  was  not  hungry.  When  he 
made  her  this  reply,  he  opened  his  Avallet,  and  took  out  a  few 
pence,  which  was  all  it  appeared  to  contain. 

"Might  I  make  bold  to  ask,"  he  said,  turning  towards 
where  Barnaby  stood  looking  on,  "  that  one  who  has  the  gift 
of  sight,  would  lay  this  out  for  me  in  bread  to  keep  me  on 
my  way  ?  Heaven's  blessing  on  the  young  feet  that  will 
bestir  themselves  in  aid  of  one  so  helpless  as  a  sightless 
man  ! " 

Barnaby  looked  at  his  mother,  who  nodded  assent ;  in 
another  moment  he  was  gone  upon  his  charitable  errand.  The 
blind  man  sat  listening  with  an  attentive  face,  until  long  after 
the  sound  of  his  retreating  footsteps  was  inaudible  to  the 
widow,  and  then  said,  suddenly,  and  in  a  very  altered  tone,  — 

"  There  are  various  degrees  and  kinds  of  blindness,  widow. 
There  is  the  connubial  blindness,  ma'am,  which  perhaps  you 
may  have  observed  in  the  course  of  your  own  experience,  and 
which  is  a  kind  of  wilful  and  self-bandaging  blindness.  There 
is  the  blindness  of  party,  ma'am,  and  public  men,  which  is  the 
blindness  of  a  mad  bull  in  the  midst  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers 
clothed  in  red.  There  is  the  blind  confidence  of  youth,  which 
is  the  blindness  of  young  kittens,  whose  eyes  have  not  yet 
opened  on  the  world ;  and  there  is  that  physical  blindness, 
ma'am,  of  which  I  am,  contrairy  to  my  own  desire,  a  most 
illustrious  example.  Added  to  these,  ma'am,  is  that  blindness 
of  the  intellect,  of  which  we  have  a  specimen  in  your  interest- 
ing son,  and  which,  having  sometimes  glimmerings  and  dawn- 
ings  of  the  light,  is  scarcely  to  be  trusted  as  a  total  darkness. 
Therefore,  ma'am,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  get  him  out  of 
the  way  for  a  short  time,  while  you  and  I  confer  together,  and 
this  precaution  arising  out  of  the  delicacy  of  my  sentiments 
towards  yourself,  you  will  excuse  me,  ma'am,  I  know." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  this  speech  witli  many  flourishes 


394  BAUNABY  BUDGE. 

of  manner,  he  drew  from  beneath  his  coat  a  flat  stone  bottle, 
and  holding  the  cork  between  his  teeth,  qualified  his  mug  of 
water  with  a  plentiful  infusion  of  the  liquor  it  contained. 
He  politely  drained  the  bumper  to  her  health,  and  the  ladies, 
and  setting  it  down  empty,  smacked  his  lips  with  infinite 
relish. 

"I  am  a  citizen  of  the  world,  ma'am,"  said  the  blind  man, 
corking  his  bottle,  "  and  if  I  seem  to  conduct  myself  with 
freedom,  it  is  therefore.  You  wonder  who  I  am,  ma'am,  and 
what  has  brought  me  here.  Such  experience  of  human  nature 
as  I  have,  leads  me  to  that  conclusion,  without  the  aid  of  eyes 
by  which  to  read  the  movements  of  your  soul  as  depicted  in 
your  feminine  features.  I  will  satisfy  your  curiosity  imme- 
diately, ma'am  ;  im-mediately."  With  that  he  slapped  his 
bottle  on  its  broad  back,  and  having  put  it  under  his  garment 
as  before,  crossed  his  legs  and  folded  his  hands,  and  settled 
himself  in  his  chair,  previous  to  proceeding  any  further. 

The  change  in  his  manner  was  so  unexpected,  the  craft  and 
wickedness  of  his  deportment  were  so  much  aggravated  by  his 
condition  —  for  we  are  accustomed  to  see  in  those  who  have 
lost  a  human  sense,  something  in  its  place  almost  divine  — 
and  this  alteration  bred  so  many  fears  in  her  whom  he 
addressed,  that  she  could  not  pronounce  one  word.  After 
waiting,  as  it  seemed,  for  some  remark  or  answer,  and  waiting 
in  vain,  the  visitor  resumed,  — 

"Madam,  my  name  is  Stagg.  A  friend  of  mine  who  has 
desired  the  honor  of  meeting  with  you  any  time  these  five 
years  past,  has  commissioned  me  to  call  upon  you.  I  should 
be  glad  to  whisper  that  gentleman's  name  in  your  ear.  — 
Zounds,  ma'am,  are  you  deaf  ?  Do  you  hear  me  say  that  I 
should  be  glad  to  whisper  my  friend's  name  in  your  ear  ?  " 

"  You  need  not  repeat  it,"  said  the  widow,  with  a  stifled 
groan ;   "  I  see  too  well  from  whom  you  come." 

"But  as  a  man  of  honor,  ma'am,"  said  the  blind  man, 
striking  himself  on  the  breast,  "  whose  credentials  must  not 
be  disputed,  I  take  leave  to  say  that  I  will  mention  that  gentle- 
man's name.  Ay,  ay,"  he  added,  seeming  to  catch  with  his 
quick  ear  the  very  motion  of  her  hand,  "  but  not  aloud.  With 
your  leave,  ma'am,  I  desire  the  favor  of  a  whisper." 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  395 

She  moved  towards  him,  and  stooped  down.  He  muttered 
a  word  in  her  ear;  and,  wringing  her  hands,  she  paced  up 
and  down  the  room  like  one  distracted.  The  blind  man,  with 
perfect  composure,  produced  his  bottle  again,  mixed  another 
glassful ;  put  it  up  as  before  ;  and,  drinking  from  time  to 
time,  followed  her  with  his  face  in  silence. 

"You  are  slow  in  conversation,  widow,"  he  said  after  a 
time,  pausing  in  his  draught.  ''  We  shall  have  to  talk  before 
your  son." 

"  What  would  you  have  me  do  ?  "  she  answered.  "  What 
do  you  want  ?  " 

"We  are  poor,  widow,  we  are  poor,"  he  retorted,  stretching 
out  his  right  hand,  and  rubbing  his  thumb  upon  its  palm. 

"  Poor  ! "  she  cried.     "  And  what  am  I  ?  " 

"  Comparisons  are  odious,"  said  the  blind  man.  "'  I  don't 
know,  I  don't  care.  I  say  that  we  are  poor.  My  friend's 
circumstances  are  indifferent,  and  so  are  mine.  We  must 
have  our  rights,  widow,  or  we  must  be  bought  off.  But  you 
know  that,  as  well  as  I,  so  where  is  the  use  of  talking  ?  " 

She  still  walked  wildly  to  and  fro.  At  length,  stopping 
abruptly  before  him,  she  said,  — 

"  Is  he  near  here  ?  " 

"  He  is.     Close  at  hand." 

"  Then  I  am  lost !  " 

"Not  lost,  widow,"  said  the  blind  man,  calmly;  "only 
found.     Shall  I  call  him  ?  " 

"  Not  for  the  world,"  she  answered  with  a  shudder. 

"Very  good,"  he  replied,  crossing  his  legs  again,  for  he 
had  made  as  though  he  would  rise  and  walk  to  the  door. 
"  As  you  please,  widow.  His  presence  is  not  necessary  that 
I  know  of.  Bnt  both  he  and  I  must  live ;  to  live,  we  must 
eat  and  drink ;  to  eat  and  drink,  we  must  have  money  :  —  I 
say  no  more." 

"Do  you  know  how  pinched  and  destitute  I  am?"  she 
retorted.  "  I  do  not  think  you  do,  or  can.  If  you  had  eyes, 
and  could  look  around  you  on  this  poor  place,  you  would  have 
pity  on  me.  Oh  !  let  your  heart  be  softened  by  your  own 
affliction,  friend,  and  have  some  sympathy  with  mine." 

The  blind  man  snapped  his  lingers  as  he  answered,  — 


396  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"  —  Beside  the  question,  ma'am,  beside  the  question.  T 
have  the  softest  heart  in  the  world,  but  I  can't  live  upon  it. 
Many  a  gentleman  lives  well  upon  a  soft  head,  who  would 
find  a  heart  of  the  same  quality  a  very  great  drawback. 
Listen  to  me.  This  is  a  matter  of  business,  with  which 
sympathies  and  sentiments  have  nothing  to  do.  As  a  mutual 
friend,  I  wish  to  arrange  it  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  if  pos- 
sible ;  and  thus  the  case  stands.  —  If  you  are  very  poor  now, 
it's  your  own  choice.  You  have  friends  who,  in  case  of 
need,  are  always  ready  to  help  you.  My  friend  is  in  a  more 
destitute  and  desolate  situation  than  most  men,  and  you  and 
he  being  linked  together  in  a  common  cause,  he  naturally 
looks  to  you  to  assist  him.  He  has  boarded  and  lodged  with 
me  a  long  time  (for  as  I  said  just  now,  I  am  very  soft-hearted), 
and  I  quite  approve  of  his  entertaining  this  opinion.  You 
have  always  had  a  roof  over  your  head ;  he  has  always  been 
an  outcast.  You  have  your  son  to  comfort  and  assist  you ; 
he  has  nobody  at  all.  The-  advantages  must  not  be  all  one 
side.  You  are  in  the  same  boat,  and  we  must  divide  the  bal- 
last a  little  more  equally." 

She  was  about  to  speak,  but  he  checked  her  and  went  on. 

"  The  only  way  of  doing  this,  is  by  making  up  a  little  purse 
now  and  then  for  my  friend ;  and  that's  what  I  advise.  He 
bears  you  no  malice  that  I  know  of,  ma'am :  so  little,  that 
although  you  have  treated  him  harshly  more  than  once,  and 
driven  him,  I  may  say,  out  of  doors,  he  has  that  regard  for 
you  that  I  believe,  even  if  you  disappointed  him  now,  he 
would  consent  to  take  charge  of  your  son,  and  to  make  a  man 
of  him." 

He  laid  a  great  stress  on  these  latter  words,  and  paused  as 
if  to  find  out  what  effect  they  had  produced.  She  only 
answered  by  her  tears. 

"He  is  a  likely  lad,"  said  the  blind  man,  thoughtfully, 
"for  many  purposes,  and  not  ill-disposed  to  try  his  fortune  in 
a  little  change  and  bustle,  if  I  may  judge  from  what  I  heard 
of  his  talk  with  you  to-night.  —  Come.  In  a  word,  my  friend 
has  pressing  necessity  for  twenty  pounds.  You,  who  can  give 
up  an  annuity,  can  get  that  sum  for  him.  It's  a  pity  you 
should  be  troubled.     You  seem  very  comfortable  here,  and 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  397 

it's  worth  that  much  to  remain  so.  Twenty  pounds,  widow, 
is  a  moderate  demand.  You  know  where  to  apply  for  it ;  a 
post  will  bring  it  you.  —  Twenty  pounds  !  " 

She  was  about  to  answer  him  again,  but  again  he  stopped 
her. 

"  Don't  say  anything  hastily ;  you  might  be  sorry  for  it. 
Think  of  it  a  little  while.  Twenty  pounds  —  of  other  people's 
money  —  how  easy  !  Turn  it  over  in  your  mind.  I'm  in  no 
hurry.  Night's  coming  on,  and  if  I  don't  sleep  here,  I  shall 
not  go  far.  Twenty  pounds  !  Consider  of  it,  ma'am,  for 
twenty  minutes ;  give  each  pound  a  minute  ;  that's  a  fair 
allowance.  I'll  enjoy  the  air  the  while,  which  is  very  mild 
and  pleasant  in  these  parts." 

With  these  words,  he  groped  his  way  to  the  door,  carrying 
his  chair  with  him.  Then  seating  himself,  under  a  spreading 
honeysuckle,  and  stretching  his  legs  across  the  threshold  so 
that  no  person  could  pass  in  or  out  without  his  knowledge,  he 
took  from  his  pocket  a  pipe,  flint,  steel,  and  tinder-box,  and 
began  to  smoke.  It  was  a  lovely  evening,  of  that  gentle  kind, 
and  at  that  time  of  year,  when  the  twilight  is  most  beautiful. 
Pausing  now  and  then  to  let  his  smoke  curl  slowly  off,  and  to 
sniff  the  grateful  fragrance  of  the  flowers,  he  sat  there  at  his 
ease  —  as  though  the  cottage  were  his  proper  dwelling,  and  he 
had  held  undisputed  possession  of  it  all  his  life  —  waiting  for 
the  widow's  answer  and  for  Barnaby's  return. 


398  BAByABY   BUDGE. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

When  Barnaby  returned  with  the  bread,  the  sight  of  the 
pious  old  pilgriru  smoking  his  pipe  and  making  himself  so 
thoroughly  at  home,  appeared  to  surprise  even  him  ;  the  more 
so,  as  that  worthy  person,  instead  of  putting  up  the  loaf  in 
his  wallet  as  a  scarce  and  precious  article,  tossed  it  carelessly 
on  the  table,  and  producing  his  bottle,  bade  him  sit  down  and 
drink. 

"  For  I  carry  some  comfort  you  see,''  he  said.  ^'  Taste  that. 
Is  it  good  ?  " 

The  water  stood  in  Barnaby's  eyes  as  he  coughed  from  the 
strength  of  the  draught,  and  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Drink  some  more,"  said  the  blind  man  ;  "  don't  be  afraid 
of  it.     You  don't  taste  anything  like  that,  often,  eh  ?  " 

"  Often  !  "  cried  Barnaby.     "  Xever  !  " 

"Too  poor  ?"  returned  the  blind  man  with  a  sigh.  "Ay. 
That's  bad.  Your  mother,  poor  soul,  would  be  happier  if  she 
was  richer,  Barnaby." 

"Why,  so  I  tell  her  —  the  very  thing  I  told  her  just  before 
you  came  to-night,  when  all  that  gold  was  in  the  sky,"  said 
Barnaby,  drawing  his  chair  nearer  to  him,  and  looking  eagerly 
in  his  face.  "  Tell  me.  Is  there  any  way  of  being  rich,  that 
I  c<Duld  find  out  ?  " 

"  Any  way  !     A  hundred  ways." 

"  Ay,  ay  ?  "  he  returned.  "  Do  you  say  so  ?  What  are 
they?  —  ISTay,  mother,  it's  for  your  sake  I  ask;  not  mine;  — 
for  yours,  indeed.     What  are  they  ?  " 

The  blind  man  turned  his  face,  on  which  there  was  a  smile 
of  triumph,  to  where  the  widow  stood  in  great  distress ;  and 
answered,  — 

"  Why,  they  are  not  to  be  found  out  by  stay-at-homes,  my 
good  friend." 

"By  stay-at-homes  ! "  cried  Barnab}',  plucking  at  his  sleeve. 


BARXABY  BUDGE.  399 

^'But  I  am  not  one.  Now,  there  you  mistake.  I  am  often 
out  before  the  sun,  and  travel  home  when  he  has  gone  to  rest. 
I  am  away  in  the  woods  before  the  day  has  reached  the  shady 
places,  and  am  often  there  when  the  bright  moon  is  peeping 
through  the  boughs,  and  looking  down  upon  the  other  moon 
that  lives  in  water.  As  I  walk  along,  I  try  to  find,  among 
the  grass  and  moss,  some  of  that  small  money  for  which  she 
works  so  hard  and  used  to  shed  so  many  tears.  As  I  lie 
asleep  in  the  shade  I  dream  of  it  —  dream  of  digging  it  up  in 
heaps  ;  and  spying  it  out,  hidden  under  bushes  ;  and  seeing  it 
sparkle,  as  the  dewdrops  do,  among  the  leaves.  But  I  never 
find  it.  Tell  me  where  it  is.  I'd  go  there,  if  the  journey 
were  a  whole  year  long,  because  I  know  she  would  be  happier 
when  I  came  home  and  brought  some  with  me.  Speak  again. 
I'll  listen  to  you  if  you  talk  all  night." 

The  blind  man  passed  his  hand  lightly  over  the  poor 
fellow's  face,  and  finding  that  his  elbows  were  planted  on  the 
table,  that  his  chin  rested  on  his  two  hands,  that  he  leaned 
eagerly  forward,  and  that  his  whole  manner  expressed  the 
utmost  interest  and  anxiety,  paused  for  a  minute  as  though  he 
desired  the  widow  to  observe  this  fully, and  then  made  answer: 

"  It's  in  the  world,  bold  Barnaby,  the  merry  world  ;  not  in 
solitary  places  like  those  you  pass  your  time  in,  but  in 
crowds,  and  where  there's  noise  and  rattle." 

''Good!  good!"  cried  Barnaby,  rubbing  his  hands  "Yes! 
I  love  that.  Grip  loves  it  too.  It  suits  us  botli.  That's 
brave ! " 

"  —  The  kind  of  places,"  said  the  blind  man,  "that  a  young 
fellow  likes,  and  in  which  a  good  son  may  do  more  for  his 
mother,  and  himself  to  boot,  in  a  month,  than  he  could  here 
in  all  his  life  —  that  is,  if  he  had  a  friend,  you  know,  and 
some  one  to  advise  with." 

"  You  hear  this,  mother  ?  "  cried  Barnaby,  turning  to  her 
with  delight.  "Never  tell  me  we  sliouldn't  heed  it,  if  it  la}' 
shining  at  our  feet,  Wliy  do  we  heed  it  so  much  now  ? 
Why  do  you  toil  from  morning  until  night  ?  " 

"Surely,"  said  tlie  blind  man,  "surrh'.  Have  you  no 
answer,  widow  ?  Is  your  mind,"  he  slowly  added,  -  not  made 
up  yet  V  " 


400  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Let  me  speak  with  you,"  she  answered,  "  apart." 

"  Lay  your  hand  upon  my  sleeve,"  said  Stagg,  rising  from 
the  table  ;  "  and  lead  me  where  you  will.  Courage,  bold 
Barnaby.  We'll  talk  more  of  this :  I've  a  fancy  for  you. 
Wait  there  till  I  come  back.     Xow,  widow." 

She  led  him  out  at  the  door,  and  into  the  little  garden, 
where  they  stopped. 

"  You  are  a  fit  agent,"  she  said,  in  a  half  breathless  manner, 
"  and  well  represent  the  man  who  sent  you  here." 

"  I'll  tell  him  that  you  said  so,"  Stagg  retorted.  "  He  has 
a  regard  for  you,  and  will  respect  me  the  more  (if  possible) 
for  your  praise.     We  must  have  our  rights,  widow." 

''  Rights !  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  that  a  word  from 
me"  — 

"  Why  do  you  stop  ? "  returned  the  blind  man  calmly, 
after  a  long  pause.  '•  Do  I  know  that  a  word  from  you  would 
place  my  friend  in  the  last  position  of  the  dance  of  life  ? 
Yes,  I  do.     What  of  that  ?     It  will  never  be  spoken,  widow." 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"Quite  —  so  sure,  that  I  don't  come  here  to  discuss  the 
question.  I  say  we  must  have  our  rights,  or  we  must  be 
bought  off.  Keep  to  that  point,  or  let  me  return  to  my  young 
friend,  for  I  have  an  interest  in  the  lad,  and  desire  to  put  him 
in  the  way  of  making  his  fortune.  Bah  !  you  needn't  speak," 
he  added  hastily  ;  "  I  know  what  you  would  say :  you  have 
hinted  at  it  once  already.  Have  I  no  feeling  for  you,  because 
I  am  blind  ?  No,  I  have  not.  Why  do  you  expect  me,  being 
in  darkness,  to  be  better  than  men  who  have  their  sight  — 
why  should  you  ?  Is  the  hand  of  Heaven  more  manifest  in 
my  having  no  eyes,  than  in  your  having  two  ?  It's  the  cant 
of  you  folks  to  be  horrified  if  a  blind  man  robs,  or  lies,  or 
steals ;  oh  yes,  it's  far  worse  in  him,  who  can  barely  live  on 
the  few  halfpence  that  are  thrown  to  him  in  streets,  than  in 
you,  who  can  see,  and  work,  and  are  not  dependent  on  the 
mercies  of  the  world.  A  curse  on  you  !  You  who  have  five 
senses  may  be  wicked  at  your  pleasure  ;  we  who  have  four, 
and  want  the  most  important,  are  to  live  and  be  moral  on  our 
affliction.  The  true  charity  and  justice  of  rich  to  poor,  all 
the  world  over  !  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  401 

He  paused  a  moment  when  he  had  said  these  words,  and 
caught  the  sound  of  mone}^,  jingling  in  her  hand. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  cried,  quickly  resuming  his  former  manner. 
"That  should  lead  to  something.     The  point,  widow  ?  " 

"First  answer  me  one  question,"  she  replied.  "You  say 
he  is  close  at  hand.     Has  he  left  London  ?  " 

"  Being  close  at  hand,  widow,  it  would  seem  he  has," 
returned  the  blind  man. 

"  I  mean  for  good.     You  know  that." 

"  Yes,  for  good.  The  truth  is,  widow,  that  his  making  a 
longer  stay  there  might  have  had  disagreeable  consequences. 
He  has  come  away  for  that  reason." 

"  Listen,"  said  the  widow,  telling  some  money  out,  upon  a 
bench  beside  them.     "Count." 

"Six,"  said  the  blind  man,  listening  attentively.  "Any 
more  ?  " 

"  They  are  the  savings  "  she  answered  "  of  five  years.  Six 
guineas." 

He  put  out  his  hand  for  one  of  the  coins ;  felt  it  carefully, 
put  it  between  his  teeth,  rung  it  on  the  bench ;  and  nodded 
to  her  to  proceed. 

"  These  have  been  scraped  together  and  laid  by,  lest  sick- 
ness or  death  should  separate  my  son  and  me.  They  have 
been  purchased  at  the  price  of  much  liunger,  hard  labor,  and 
want  of  rest.  If  you  ca?i  take  them  —  do  —  on  condition  that 
you  leave  this  place  upon  the  instant,  and  enter  no  more  into 
that  room,  where  he  sits  now,  expecting  your  return." 

"Six  guineas,"  said  the  blind  man,  shaking  his  head, 
"though  of  the  fullest  weight  that  were  ever  coined,  fall 
very  far  short  of  twenty  pounds,  widow." 

"  For  such  a  sum,  as  you  know,  I  must  write  to  a  distant  part  of 
the  country.  To  do  that,and  receive  an  answer,!  must  have  time." 

"  Two  days  ?  "  said  Stagg. 

"  More." 

"  Four  days  ?  " 

"  A  week  !  Return  on  this  day  week,  at  the  same  hour,  but 
not  to  the  house.     Wait  at  the  corner  of  the  lane." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  blind  man,  with  a  crafty  look,  "I 
shall  find  you  there  ?  " 


402  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Where  else  can  I  take  refuge  ?  Is  it  not  enough  that  you 
have  made  a  beggar  of  me,  and  that  I  have  sacrificed  my 
whole  store,  so  hardly  earned,  to  preserve  this  home  ?  " 

"  Humph  ! "  said  the  blind  man,  after  some  consideration. 
'•  Set  me  with  my  face  towards  the  point  you  speak  of,  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.     Is  this  the  spot  ?  " 

'•  It  is." 

"  On  this  day  week  at  sunset.  And  think  of  him  within 
doors.  —  For  the  present,  good-night.*' 

She  made  him  no  answer,  nor  did  he  stop  for  any.  He 
went  slowl}^  awa}^,  turning  his  head  from  time  to  time,  and 
stopping  to  listen,  as  if  he  were  curious  to  know  whether  he 
was  watched  by  any  one.  The  shadows  of  night  were  closing 
fast  around,  and  he  was  soon  lost  in  the  gloom.  It  was  not, 
however,  until  she  had  traversed  the  lane  from  end  to  end, 
and  made  sure  that  he  was  gone,  that  she  re-entered  the 
cottage,  and  hurriedly  barred  the  door  and  window. 

"  Mother  I ''  said  Barnaby.  '•  What  is  the  matter  ?  Where 
is  the  blind  man  ?  " 

"He  is  gone." 

"  Gone  I  "  he  cried,  starting  up.  '- 1  must  have  more  talk 
with  him.     Which  way  did  he  take  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  folding  her  arms  about  him. 
"  You  must  not  go  out  to-night.  There  are  ghosts  and  dreams 
abroad." 

"  Ay  ?  "  said  Barnab}',  in  a  frightened  whisper. 

"  It  is  not  safe  to  stir.    We  must  leave  this  place  to-morrow." 

"  This  place  !  This  cottage  —  and  the  little  garden,  mother !  " 

"Yes!  To-morrow  morning  at  sunrise.  We  must  travel 
to  London ;  lose  ourselves  in  that  wide  place  —  there  would 
be  some  trace  of  us  in  any  other  town  —  then  travel  on  again, 
and  find  some  new  abode." 

Little  persuasion  was  required  to  reconcile  Barnaby  to  any- 
thing that  promised  change.  In  another  minute,  he  was  wild 
with  delight ;  in  another,  full  of  grief  at  the  prospect  of  part- 
ing with  his  friends  the  dogs ;  in  another,  wild  again  ;  then 
he  was  fearful  of  what  she  had  said  to  prevent  his  wandering 
abroad  that  night,  and  full  of  terrors  and  strange  questions. 
His  light-heartedness   in  the   end  surmounted  all  his   other 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  403 

feelings,  and  lying  down  in  his  clothes  to  the  end  that  he 
might  be  ready  on  the  morrow,  he  soon  fell  fast  asleep  before 
the  poor  turf  lire. 

His  mother  did  not  close  her  eyes,  but  sat  beside  him, 
watching.  Every  breath  of  wind  sounded  in  her  ears  like 
that  dreaded  footstep  at  the  door,  or  like  that  hand  upon  the 
latch,  and  made  the  calm  summer  night,  a  night  of  horror. 
At  length  the  welcome  day  appeared.  When  she  had  made 
the  little  preparations  which  were  needful  for  their  journey, 
and  had  prayed  upon  her  knees  with  many  tears,  she  roused 
Barnaby,  who  jumped  up  gayly  at  her  summons. 

His  clothes  were  few  enough,  and  to  carry  Grip  was  a 
labor  of  love.  As  the  sun  shed  his  earliest  beams  upon  the 
earth,  they  closed  the  door  of  their  deserted  home,  and  turned 
away.  The  sky  was  blue  and  bright.  The  air  was  fresh  and 
filled  with  a  thousand  perfumes.  Barnaby  looked  upward, 
and  laughed  with  all  his  heart. 

But  it  was  a  day  he  usually  devoted  to  a  long  ramble,  and 
one  of  the  dogs  —  the  ugliest  of  them  all  —  came  bounding  up, 
and  jumping  round  him  in  the  fulness  of  his  joy.  He  had  to 
bid  him  go  back  in  a  surly  tone,  and  his  heart  smote  him 
while  he  did  so.  The  dog  retreated ;  turned  with  a  half 
incredulous,  half  imploring  look ;  came  a  little  back  ;  and 
stopped. 

It  was  the  last  appeal  of  an  old  companion  and  a  faithful 
friend  —  cast  off.  Barnaby  could  bear  no  more,  and  as  he 
shook  his  head  and  waved  his  playmate  home,  he  burst  into 
tears. 

"Oh,  mother,  mother,  how  mournful  he  will  be  when  he 
scratches  at  the  door,  and  finds  it  always  shut ! " 

There  was  such  a  sense  of  home  in  the  thought,  that  though 
her  own  eyes  overflowed  she  would  not  have  obliterated  the 
recollection  of  it,  eitlier  from  her  own  mind  or  from  his,  fur 
the  wealth  of  the  whole  wide  world. 


404  BAIiXABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 

In-  the  exhaiistless  catalogue  of  Heaven's  mercies  to  man- 
kind, the  power  we  have  of  finding  some  germs  of  comfort  in 
the  hardest  trials  must  ever  occupy  the  foremost  place  ;  not 
only  because  it  supports  and  upholds  us  when  we  most  require 
to  be  sustained,  but  because  in  this  source  of  consolation  there 
is  something,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  of  the  divine  spirit ; 
something  of  that  goodness  which  detects  amidst  our  own  evil 
doings,  a  redeeming  quality  ;  something  which,  even  in  our 
fallen  nature,  we  possess  in  common  with  the  angels ;  which 
had  its  being  in  the  old  time  when  they  trod  the  earth,  and 
lingers  on  it  yet,  in  pity. 

How  often,  on  their  journey,  did  the  widow  remember  with 
a  grateful  heart,  tliat  out  of  his  deprivation  Barnaby's  cheer- 
fulness and  affection  sprung  !  How  often  did  she  call  to  mind 
that  but  for  that,  he  might  have  been  sullen,  morose,  unkind, 
far  removed  from  her  —  vicious,  perhaps,  and  cruel !  How 
often  had  she  cause  for  comfort,  in  his  strength,  and  hope, 
and  in  his  simple  nature.  Those  feeble  powers  of  mind  which 
rendered  him  so  soon  forgetful  of  the  past,  save  in  brief 
gleams  and  flashes,  —  even  they  were  a  comfort  now.  The 
world  to  him  was  full  of  happiness  ;  in  every  tree,  and  plant, 
and  flower,  in  every  bird,  and  beast,  and  tiny  insect  whom  a 
breath  of  summer  wind  laid  low  upon  the  ground,  he  had 
delight.  His  delight  was  hers  ;  and  where  many  a  wise  son 
would  have  made  her  sorroAvful,  this  poor  light-hearted  idiot 
filled  her  breast  with  thankfulness  and  love. 

Their  stock  of  money  was  low,  but  from  the  hoard  she  had 
told  into  the  blind  man's  hand,  the  widow  had  withheld  one 
guinea.  This,  with  the  few  pence  she  possessed  besides,  was 
to  two  persons  of  their  frugal  habits,  a  goodly  sum  in  bank. 
Moreover  they  had  Grip  in  company ;  and  when  they  must 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  405 

otherwise  have  changed  the  guinea,  it  was  but  to  make  him 
exhibit  outside  an  alehouse  door,  or  in  a  village  street,  or  in 
the  grounds  or  gardens  of  a  mansion  of  the  better  sort,  and 
scores,  who  would  have  given  nothing  in  charity,  were  ready 
to  bargain  for  more  amusement  from  the  talking  bird. 

One  day  —  for  they  moved  slowly,  and,  although  they  had 
many  rides  in  carts  and  wagons  were  on  the  road  a  week  — 
Barnaby  with  Grip  upon  his  shoulder  and  his  mot'her  follow- 
ing, begged  permission  at  a  trim  lodge  to  go  up  to  the  great 
house,  at  the  other  end  of  the  avenue,  and  show  his  raven. 
The  man  within  was  inclined  to  give  them  admittance,  and 
was  indeed  about  to  do  so,  when  a  stout  gentleman  with  a 
long  whip  in  his  hand,  and  a  flushed  face  which  seemed  to 
indicate  that  he  had  had  his  morning's  draught,  rode  up  to  the 
gate,  and  called  in  a  loud  voice  and  with  more  oaths  than  the 
occasion  seemed  to  warrant  to  have  it  opened  directly. 

"  Who  hast  thou  got  here  ?  "  said  the  gentleman  angrily, 
as  the  man  threw  the  gate  wide  open,  and  pulled  off  his  hat, 
"  who  are  these  ?     Eh  ?  ar't  a  beggar  woman  ?  " 

The  widow  answered  with  a  courtesy,  that  they  were  poor 
travellers. 

"  Vagrants,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  vagrants  and  vagabonds. 
Thee  wish  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the  cage,  dost  thee  — 
the  cage,  the  stocks,  and  the  whipping-post  ?  Where  dost 
come  from  ?  " 

She  told  him  in  a  timid  manner,  —  for  he  was  very  loud, 
hoarse,  and  red-faced,  —  and  besought  liim  uot  to  be  angry, 
for  they  meant  no  harm  and  would  go  upon  their  way  that 
moment. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  replied  the  gentleman,  ''  we 
don't  allow  vagrants  to  roam  about  this  place.  I  know  what 
thou  want'st  —  stray  linen,  drying  on  hedges,  and  stray 
poultry,  eh  ?     What  hast  got  in  that  basket,  lazy  hound  ?  " 

"Grip,  Grip,  Grip  —  Grip  the  clever.  Grip  the  wicked,  (xrip 
the  knowing  —  Grip,  Grip,  Grip,"  cried  the  raven,  whom 
Barnaby  had  shut  up  on  the  approach  of  this  stern  personage. 
"  I'm  a  devil  I'm  a  devil  I'm  a  devil.  Never  say  die 
Hurrah  Bow  wow  wow,  Polly  i)ut  the  kettle  on  we'll  all 
have  tea." 


406  BAIiyABY  liUUGE. 

"  Take  the  virmin  out,  scoundrel/'  said  the  gentleman, 
"  and  let  me  see  him." 

Barnaby,  thus  condescendingly  addressed,  produced  his  bird, 
but  not  witliout  much  fear  and  trembling,  and  set  him  down 
upon  the  ground;  which  he  had  no  sooner  done  than  Grip 
drew  fifty  corks  at  least,  and  then  began  to  dance  ;  at  the 
same  time  eying  the  gentleman  with  surprising  insolence  of 
manner,  and  screwing  his  head  so  much  on  one  side  that  he 
appeared  desirous  of  screwing  it  off  upon  the  spot. 

The  cork-drawing  seemed  to  make  a  greater  impression  on 
the  gentleman's  mind,  than  the  raven's  power  of  speech,  and 
was  indeed  particularly  adapted  to  his  habits  and  capacity. 
He  desired  to  have  that  done  again,  but  despite  his  being 
very  peremptory,  and  notwithstanding  that  Barnaby  coaxed 
to  the  utmost,  Grip  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  request,  and  pre- 
served a  dead  silence. 

'•  Bring  him  along,"  said  the  gentleman,  pointing  to  the 
house.  But  Grip,  who  had  watched  the  action,  anticipated 
his  master,  by  hopping  on  before  them  ;  —  constantly  flapping 
his  wings,  and  screaming  "  cook  !  "  meanwhile,  as  a  hint  per- 
haps that  there  was  company  coming,  and  a  small  collation 
would  be  acceptable. 

Barnaby  and  his  mother  walked  on,  on  either  side  of  the 
gentleman  on  horseback,  who  surveyed  each  of  them  from 
time  to  time  in  a  proud-  and  coarse  manner,  and  occasionally 
thundered  out  some  question,  the  tone  of  which  alarmed 
Barnaby  so  much  that  he  could  find  no  answer,  and,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  could  make  him  no  reply.  On  one  of  these 
occasions,  when  the  gentleman  appeared  disposed  to  exercise 
liis  horsewhip,  the  widow  ventured  to  inform  him  in  a  low 
voice  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  her  son  was  of  weak 
mind. 

"  An  idiot,  eh  ?  "  said  the  gentleman,  looking  at  Barnaby 
as  he  spoke.     "  And  how  long  hast  been  an  idiot  ?  " 

"  She  knows,"  was  Barnaby's  timid  answer,  pointing  to  his 
mother  —  "I  —  always,  I  believe." 

"  From  his  birth,"  said  the  widow. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  cried  the  orentleman,  "not  a  bit  of  it. 
It's  an  excuse  not  to  work.     There's  nothing  like  flogging 


BAliNABY  BUDGE.  407 

to  cure  that  disorder.  I'd  make  a  difference  in  him  in  ten 
minutes,  I'll  be  bound.''* 

"  Heaven  has  made  none  in  more  than  twice  ten  years,  sir," 
said  the  widow  mildly. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  shut  him  up  ?  we  pay  enough  for 
county  institutions,  damn  'em,  But  thou'd  rather  drag  him 
about  to  excite  charity  —  of  course.     Ay,  I  know  thee." 

Now  this  gentleman  had  various  endearing  appellations 
among  his  intimate  friends.  By  some  he  was  called  "  a 
country  gentleman  of  the  true  school,"  by  some  '•  a  fine  old 
country  gentleman,"  by  some  "  a  sporting  gentleman,"  by 
some  "  a  thorough-bred  Englishman,"  by  some  "  a  genuine 
John  Bull ;  "  but  they  all  agreed  in  one  respect,  and  that  was, 
that  it  was  a  pity  there  were  not  more  like  him,  and  that 
because  there  were  not,  the  country  was  going  to  rack  and 
ruin  every  day.  He  was  in  the  commission  of  the  peace,  and 
could  write  his  name  almost  legibly  ;  but  his  greatest  quali- 
fications w^ere,  that  he  was  more  severe  with  poachers,  was  a 
b9tter  shot,  a  harder  rider,  had  better  horses,  kept  better  dogs, 
could  eat  more  solid  food,  drink  more  strong  wine,  go  to  bed 
every  night  more  drunk  and  get  up  every  morning  more 
sober,  than  any  man  in  the  country.  In  knowledge  of  horse- 
flesh he  was  almost  equal  to  a  farrier,  in  stable  learning  he 
surpassed  his  own  head  groom,  and  in  gluttony  not  a  pig  on 
his  estate  was  a  match  for  him.  He  had  no  seat  in  Parliament 
himself,  but  he  was  extremely  patriotic,  and  usually  drove  his 
voters  up  to  the  poll  with  his  own  hands.  He  was  warmly 
attached  to  church  and  state,  and  never  appointed  to  the 
living  in  his  gift  any  but  a  three-bottle  man  and  a  first-rate 
fox-hunter.  He  mistrusted  the  honesty  of  all  poor  people 
who  could  read  and  write,  and  had  a  secret  jealousy  of  his  own 
wife  (a  young  lady  whom  he  liad  married  for  what  his  friends 
called  ^'the  good  old  English  reason,"  that  her  father's  property 
adjoined  his  own)  for  possessing  those  accomplishments  in 
a  greater  degree  than  himself.  In  short,  Barnaby  being  an 
idiot,  and  Grip  a  creature  of  mere  brute  instinct,  it  would  be 
very  hard  to  say  what  this  gentleman  was. 

He  rode  up  to  the  door  of  a  handsome  house  approached  by 
a  great  fliglit  of  steps,  where  a  man  was  waiting  to  take  his 


408  BARXABY  RUDGE. 

horse,  and  led  the  way  into  a  large  hall,  which,  spacious  as  it 
was,  was  tainted  with  the  fumes  of  last  night's  stale  debauch. 
Great-coats,  riding-whips,  bridles,  top-boots,  spurs,  and  such 
gear,  were  strewn  about  on  all  sides,  and  formed,  with  some 
huge  stags'  antlers,  and  a  few  portraits  of  dogs  and  horses,  its 
principal  embellishments. 

Throwing  himself  into  a  great  chair  (in  which,  by-the-by, 
he  often  snored  away  the  night,  v.'hen  he  had  been,  according 
to  his  admirers,  a  finer  country  gentleman  than  usual)  he 
bade  the  man  tell  his  mistress  to  come  down :  and  presently 
there  appeared,  a  little  flurried,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  unwonted 
summons,  a  lady  much  younger  than  himself,  who  had  the 
appearance  of  being  in  delicate  health,  and  not  too  happy. 

'•  Here  !  Thou'st  no  delight  in  following  the  hounds  as  an 
Englishwoman  should  have,"  said  the  gentleman.  '•  See  to  this 
here.     That'll  please  thee  perhaps." 

The  lady  smiled,  sat  down  at  a  little  distance  from  him, 
and  glanced  at  Barnaby  with  a  look  of  pity. 

'•  He's  an  idiot,  the  woman  says,"  observed  the  gentleman, 
shaking  his  head ;  "  I  don't  believe  it." 

"  Are  you  his  mother  ?  "  asked  the  lady. 

She  answered  j^es. 

"What's  the  use  of  asking  her?^^  said  the  gentleman, 
thrusting  his  hands  into  his  breeches  pockets.  '•  She'll  tell 
thee  so,  of  course.  Most  likely  he's  hired,  at  so  much  a  day. 
There.     Get  on.     Make  him  do  something." 

Grip  having  by  this  time  recovered  his  ilrbanity,  conde- 
scended, at  Barnaby's  solicitation,  to  repeat  his  various 
phrases  of  speech,  and  to  go  through  the  whole  of  his 
performances  with  the  utmost  success.  The  corks,  and  the 
never  say  die,  afforded  the  gentleman  so  much  delight  that 
he  demanded  the  repetition  of  this  part  of  the  entertainment, 
until  Grip  got  into  his  basket,  and  positively  refused  to  say 
another  word,  good  or  bad.  The  lady  too,  was  much  amused 
with  him  ;  and -the  closing  point  of  his  obstinacy  so  delighted 
her  husband  that  he  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  and 
demanded  his  price. 

Barnaby  looked  as  though  he  didn't  understand  his 
meaning.     Probably  he  did  not. 


BARXABV  nUDGE.  4011 

''His  price,"  said  the  geiitleiiiaii,  rattling  the  money  in  his 
pockets,  '•  what  dost  want  for  liini  ?     How  much  ?  " 

"He's  not  to  be  sokl,"  replied  Barnaby,  shutting  up  the 
basket  in  a  great  hurry,  and  throwing  tlie  strap  over  his 
shoulder.     '•  ^Mother,  come  away." 

"  Thou  seest  how  much  of  an  idiot  he  is,  book-learner," 
said  the  gentleman,  looking  scornfully  at  his  wife.  "  He  can 
make  a  bargain.     What  dost  want  for  him,  old  woman  ?  " 

"  He  is  my  son's  constant  companion,"  said  the  widow. 
"  He  is  not  to  be  sold,  sir,  indeed." 

"Not  to  be  sold!"  cried  the  gentleman,  growing  ten  times 
redder,  hoarser,  and  louder  than  before.     "  Not  to  be  sold!  " 

"  Indeed,  no,"  she  answered.  "  We  have  never  thought  of 
parting  with  him,  sir,  I  do  assure  you." 

He  was  evidently  about  to  make  a  very  passionate  retort, 
when  a  few  murmured  words  from  his  wife  happening  to 
catch  his  ear,  he  turned  sharply  round,  and  said,  "Eh? 
What  ?  " 

"We  can  hardly  expect  them  to  sell  the  bird,  against 
their  own  desire,"  she  faltered.  "  If  they  prefer  to  keep 
him"  — 

"Prefer  to  keep  him!"  he  echoed.  "These  people,  who 
go  tram})ing  about  the  country,  a-pilfering  and  vagabondizing 
on  all  hands,  prefer  to  keep  a  bird,  when  a  landed  proprietor 
and  a  justice  asks  his  price  1  That  old  woman's  been  to 
school.  I  know  she  has.  Don't  tell  me  no,"  lie  roared  to 
the  widow,  "  I  say,  yes." 

Barnaby's  mother  pleaded  guilty  to  the  accusation,  ami 
hoped  there  was  no  harm  in  it. 

"  No  harm ! "  said  the  gentleman.  "  No.  No  harm. 
No  harm,  ye  old  rebel,  not  a  bit  of  harm.  If  my  clerk  was 
here,  I'd  set  ye  in  the  stocks,  I  would,  or  lay  ye  in  jail  for 
prowling  up  and  down,  on  the  lookout  for  petty  larcenies,  ye 
limb  of  a  gypsy.  Plere,  Simon,  put  these  pilferers  out,  shove 
'em  into  the  road,  out  with  'em  !  Ye  don't  want  to  sell  the 
bird,  ye  that  come  here  to  beg,  don't  ye?  If  they  ain't  out 
in  double-quick,  set  the  dogs  upon  'em  ! '' 

They  waited  for  no  further  dismissal,  but  tied  preci{)itately, 
leaving  the  gentleman  to  storm  away  by  himself  (for  the  poor 


410  BAliXABY  liUDGK 

lady  had  already  retreated),  and  making  a  great  many  vain 
attempts  to  silence  Grip,  who,  excited  by  the  noise,  drew 
corks  enough  for  a  city  feast  as  they  hurried  down  the 
avenue,  and  appeared  to  congratulate  himself  beyond  measure 
on  having  been  the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  When  they 
had  nearly  reached  the  lodge,  another  servant,  emerging  from 
the  shrubbery,  feigned  to  be  very  active  in  ordering  them  off, 
but  this  man  put  a  crown  into  the  widow's  hand,  and 
whispering  that  his  lady  se*it  it,  thrust  them  gently  from  the 
gate. 

This  incident  only  suggested  to  the  widow's  mind,  when 
they  halted  at  an  alehouse  some  miles  further  on,  and  heard 
the  justice's  character  as  given  by  his  friends,  that  perhaps 
something  more  than  capacity  of  stomach  and  tastes  for  the 
kennel  and  the  stable,  were  required  to  form  either  a  perfect 
countr}^  gentleman,  a  thorough-bred  Englishman,  or  a  genuine 
John  Bull ;  and  that  possibly  the  terms  were  sometimes 
misappropriated,  not  to  say  disgraced.  She  little  thought 
then,  that  a  circumstance  so  slight  would  ever  influence  their 
future  fortunes ;  but  time  and  experience  enlightened  her  in 
this  respect. 

"  Mother,"  said  Barnaby,  as  they  were  sitting  next  day  in 
a  wagon  which  was  to  take  them  to  within  ten  miles  of  the 
capital,  "  we're  going  to  London  first,  j^ou  said.  Shall  we 
see  that  blind  man  there  ?  " 

She  was  about  to  answer  "  Heaven  forbid ! "  but  checked 
herself,  and  told  him  jS"o,  she  thought  not ;  wh}^  did  he  ask  ? 

"  He's  a  wise  man,"  said  Barnaby,  with  a  thoughtful  coun- 
tenance. "I  wish  that  we  may  meet  with  him  again.  What 
was  it  that  he  said  of  crowds  ?  That  gold  was  to  be  found 
where  people  crowded,  and  not  among  the  trees  and  in  such 
quiet  places  ?  He  spoke  as  if  he  loved  it ;  London  is  a 
crowded  place ;  I  think  we  shall  meet  him  there." 

"But  why  do  you  desire  to  see  him,  love  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because,"  said  Barnaby,  looking  wistfully  at  her,  "  he 
talked  to  me  about  gold,  which  is  a  rare  thing,  and  say  what 
you  will,  a  thing  you  would  like  to  have,  I  know.  And 
because  he  came  and  went  away  so  strangely  —  just  as  wiiite- 
headed  old  men  come  sometimes  to  my  bed's  foot  in  the  night. 


BAByABY  BUDGE.  411 

and  say  what  I  can't  remember  when  the  briglit  day  returns. 
He  told  me  he'd  come  back.  I  wonder  why  he  broke  his 
word  !  " 

"  But  you  never  thought  of  being  rich  or  gay,  before,  dear 
Barnaby.     You  have  always  been  contented." 

He  laughed  and  bade  her  say  that  again,  then  cried,  "  Ay, 
ay — oh,  yes,"  and  laughed  once  more.  Then  something 
passed  that  caught  his  fancy,  and  the  topic  wandered  from 
his  mind,  and  was  succeeded  by  another  just  as  fleeting. 

But  it  was  plain  from  what  he  had  said,  and  from  his 
returning  to  the  point  more  than  once  that  day,  and  on  the 
next  that  the  blind  man's  visit,  and  indeed  his  words,  had 
taken  strong  possession  of  his  mind.  Whether  the  idea  of 
wealth  had  occurred  to  him  for  the  first  time  on  looking  at 
the  golden  clouds  that  evening  —  and  images  were  often  pre- 
sented to  his  thoughts  by  outward  objects  quite  as  remote  and 
distant ;  or  whether  their  poor  and  humble  way  of  life  had 
suggested  it,  by  contrast,  long  ago ;  or  whether  the  accident 
(as  he  would  deem  it)  of  the  blind  man's  pursuing  the  current 
of  his.  own  remarks,  had  done  so  at  the  m.oment;  or  he  had 
been  impressed  by  the  mere  circumstance  of  the  man  being 
blind,  and,  therefore,  unlike  any  one  with  whom  he  had 
talked  before ;  it  was  impossible  to  tell.  She  tried  every 
means  to  discover,  but  in  vain ;  and  the  probability  is  that 
Barnaby  himself  was  equally  in  the  dark. 

It  filled  her  with  uneasiness  to  find  him  harping  on  this 
string,  but  all  that  she  could  do,  was  to  lead  him  quickly  to 
some  other  subject,  and  to  dismiss  it  from  his  brain.  To 
caution  him  against  their  visitor,  to  show  any  fear  or  suspicion 
in  reference  to  him,  would  only  be,  she  feared,  to  increase 
that  interest  with  which  Barnaby  regarded  him,  and  to 
strengthen  his  desire  to  meet  him  once  again.  She  hoped, 
by  plunging  into  the  crowd,  to  rid  herself  of  her  terrible 
pursuer,  and  then,  by  journeying  to  a  distance  and  observing 
increased  caution,  if  that  were  possible,  to  live  again  unknown, 
in  secrecy  and  peace. 

They  reached,  in  course  of  time,  their  halting-place  within 
ten  miles  of  London,  and  lay  there  for  the  night,  after  bargain- 
ing to  be  carried  on  for  a  trifle  next  day,  in  a  light  van  whicli 


412"  BARNABY  BULGE. 

was  returning  empty,  and  was  to  start  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  The  driver  was  punctual,  the  road  good  —  save  for 
the  dust,  the  weather  being  very  hot  and  dry  —  and  at  seven 
in  the  forenoon  of  Friday  the  second  of  June,  one  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  eighty,  they  alighted  at  the  foot  of  West- 
minster Bridge,  bade  their  conductor  farewell,  and  stood 
alone,  together,  on  the  scorching  pavement.  For  the  fresh- 
ness which  night  sheds  upon  such  busy  thoroughfares  had 
already  departed,  and  the  sun  was  shining  with  uncommon 
lustre. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  413 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

Uncertain  where  to  go  next,  and  bewildered  by  the  crowd 
of  people  who  were  already  astir,  they  sat  down  in  one  of  the 
recesses  on  the  bridge,  to  rest.  They  soon  became  aware  that 
the  stream  of  life  was  all  pouring  one  way,  and  that  a  vast 
throng  of  persons  were  crossing  tlie  river  from  the  Middlesex 
to  the  Surrey  shore,  in  unusual  haste  and  evident  excitement. 
They  were,  for  the  most  part,  in  knots  of  two  or  three,  or 
sometimes  half  a  dozen  ;  they  spoke  little  together — many  of 
them  were  quite  silent ;  and  hurried  on  as  if  they  had  one 
absorbing  object  in  view,  which  was  common  to  them  all. 

They  were  surprised  to  see  that  nearly  every  man  in  this 
great  concourse,  wliich  still  came  pouring  past,  without 
slackening  in  the  least,  wore  in  his  hat  a  blue  cockade  ;  and 
that  the  chance  passengers  who  were  not  so  decorated, 
appeared  timidly  anxious  to  escape  observation  or  attack,  and 
gave  them  the  wall  as  if  they  would  conciliate  them.  This, 
however,  was  natural  enough,  considering  their  inferiority  in 
point  of  numbers ;  for  the  proportion  of  those  who  wore  blue 
cockades,  to  those  who  were  dressed  as  usual,  was  at  least 
forty  or  fifty  to  one.  There  was  no  quarrelling,  however:  the 
blue  cockades  went  swarming  on,  passing  eacli  other  when 
they  could,  and  making  all  the  speed  that  was  possible  in 
such  a  multitude ;  and  exchanged  nothing  more  than  looks, 
and  very  often  not  even  those,  with  such  of  the  passers-by  as 
were  not  of  their  number. 

At  first,  the  current  of  people  had  been  confined  to  the  two 
pathways,  and  but  a  few  more  eager  stragglers  kei)t  the  road. 
But  after  half  an  hour  or  so,  the  passage  was  completely 
blocked  up  by  the  great  press,  wliich,  being  now  closely 
wedged  together,  and  impeded  by  tlie  carts  and  coaches  it 
encountered,  moved  but  slowly,  and  was  sometimes  at  a  stand 
for  five  or  ten  minutes  together. 


414  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

After  the  lapse  of  nearly  two  hours,  the  numbers  began  to 
diminish  visibly,  and  gradually  dwindling  away,  by  little  and 
little,  left  the  bridge  quite  clear,  save  that,  now  and  then, 
some  hot  and  dusty  man  with  the  cockade  in  his  hat,  and  his 
coat  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  went  panting  by,  fearful  of 
being  too  late,  or  stopped  to  ask  which  way  his  friends  had 
taken,  and  being  directed,  hastened  on  again  like  one  re- 
freshed. In  this  comparative  solitude,  which  seemed  quite 
strange  and  novel  after  the  late  crowd,  the  widow  had  for  the 
first  time  an  opportunity  of  inquiring  of  an  old  man  who  came 
and  sat  beside  them,  what  was  the  meaning  of  that  great 
assemblage. 

"Why,  where  have  jou.  come  from,"  he  returned,  "that 
you  haven't  heard  of  Lord  George  Gordon's  great  association  ? 
This  is  the  day  that  he  presents  the  petition  against  the 
Catholics,  God  bless  him  ! " 

"'  What  have  all  these  men  to  do  with  that  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What  have  they  to  do  with  it !  "  the  old  man  replied. 
"  Why,  how  you  talk !  Don't  you  know  his  lordship  has 
declared  he  won't  present  it  to  the  house  at  all,  unless  it  is 
attended  to  the  door  by  forty  thousand  good  and  true  men  at 
least  ?     There's  a  crowd  for  you  !  " 

"  A  crowd  indeed  !  "  said  Barnaby.  "  Do  you  hear  that, 
mother  ! " 

"And  they're  mustering  yonder,  as  I  am  told,"  resumed 
the  old  man,  "  nigh  upon  a  hundred  thousand  strong.  Ah ! 
Let  Lord  George  alone.  He  knows  his  power.  There'll  be 
a  good  many  faces  inside  them  three  windows  over  there," 
and  he  pointed  to  where  the  House  of  Commons  overlooked 
the  river,  "  that'll  turn  pale  when  good  Lord  George  gets  up 
this  afternoon,  and  with  reason  too  !  Ay,  ay.  Let  his  lord- 
ship alone.  Let  him  alone.  Ife  knows  ! "  And  so,  with 
much  mumbling  and  chuckling,  and  shaking  of  his  forefinger, 
he  rose,  with  the  assistance  of  his  stick,  and  tottered  off. 

"Mother!"  said  Barnaby,  "that's  a  brave  crowd  he  talks 
of.     Come  ! " 

"  Not  to  join  it !  "  cried  his  mother. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  answered,  plucking  at  her  sleeve.  "  Why 
not  ?    Come  ! " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  415 

"You  don't  know,"  she  urged,  "what  mischief  they  may 
do,  where  they  may  lead  you,  what  their  meaning  is.  Dear 
Barnaby,  for  my  sake  "  — 

"For  your  sake  !  "  he  cried,  patting  her  hand.  "  Well !  It 
is  for  your  sake,  mother.  You  remember  what  the  blind  man 
said,  about  the  gold.  Here's  a  brave  crowd  !  Come !  Or 
wait  till  I  come  back  —  yes,  yes,  wait  here." 

She  tried  with  all  the  earnestness  her  fears  engendered,  to 
turn  him  from  his  purpose,  but  in  vain.  He  was  stooping 
down  to  buckle  on  his  shoe,  when  a  hackney-coach  passed 
them  rather  quickly,  and  a  voice  inside  called  to  the  driver  to 
stop. 

"Young  man,"  said  a  voice  within. 

"Who's  that  ?  "  cried  Barnaby,  looking  up. 

"  Do  you  wear  this  ornament  ?  "  returned  the  stranger,  hold- 
ing out  a  blue  cockade. 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  no.  Pray  do  not  give  it  him  ! "  ex- 
claimed the  widow. 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  woman,"  said  the  man  within  the 
coach,  coldly.  "  Leave  the  young  man  to  his  choice ;  he's 
old  enough  to  make  it,  and  to  snap  your  apron-strings.  He 
knows,  without  your  telling,  whether  he  wears  the  sign  of  a 
loyal  Englishman  or  not." 

Barnaby,  trembling  with  impatience,  cried  "  Yes  !  yes,  yes, 
I  do,"  as  he  had  cried  a  dozen  times  already.  The  man 
threw  him  a  cockade,  and  crying  "Make  haste  to  Saint 
George's  Field's,"  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  on  fast ;  and 
left  them. 

With  hands  that  trembled  with  his  eagerness  to  fix  the 
bauble  in  his  hat,  Barnaby  was  adjusting  it  as  he  best  could, 
and  hurriedly  replying  to  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  his 
mother,  when  two  gentlemen  passed  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  way.  Observing  them,  and  seeing  how  Barnaby  was 
occupied,  they  stopped,  whispered  together  for  an  instant, 
turned  back,  and  came  over  to  them. 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  here  ?  ''  said  one  of  them,  who  was 
dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  black,  wore  long  lank  hair,  and 
carried  a  great  cane.  "  Why  have  you  not  gone  with  the 
rest  ?  " 


416  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"I  am  going,  sir,"  replied  Barnaby,  finishing  his  task,  and 
putting  his  hat  on  with  an  air  of  pride.  "  I  shall  be  there 
directly." 

"  Say  '  my  lord,'  young  man,  when  his  lordship  does  you 
the  honor  of  speaking  to  you,"  said  the  second  gentleman 
mildly.  '^  If  you  don't  know  Lord  George  Gordon  when  you 
see  him,  it's  high  time  yow  should." 

"  Nay,  Gashford,"  said  Lord  George,  as  Barnaby  pulled  off 
his  hat  again  and  made  him  a  low  bow,  ^4t's  no  great 
matter  on  a  day  like  this,  which  every  Englishman  will 
remember  with  delight  and  pride.  Put  on  your  hat,  friend, 
and  follow  us,  for  you  lag  behind  and  are  late.  It's  past  ten 
now.  Didn't  you  know  that  the  hour  of  assembling  was  ten 
o'clock  ?  " 

Barnaby  shook  his  head  and  looked  vacantly  from  one  to 
the  other. 

"  You  might  have  known  it,  friend,"  said  Gashford,  "  it  was 
perfectly  understood.     How  came  you  to  be  so  ill  informed  ?  " 

*^  He  cannot  tell  you,  sir,"  the  widow  interposed.  "  It's  of 
no  use  to  ask  him.  We  are  but  this  morning  come  from  a 
long  distance  in  the  country,  and  know  nothing  of  these 
matters." 

"The  cause  has  taken  a  deep  root,  and  has  spread  its 
branches  far  and  wide,"  said  Lord  George  to  his  secretary. 
"  This  is  a  pleasant  hearing      I  thank  Heaven  for  it." 

"  Amen  !  "  cried  Gashford  with  a  solemn  face. 

"You  do  not  understand  me,  my  lord,"  said  the  widow. 
"Pardon  me,  but  you  cruelly  mistake  my  meaning.  We 
know  nothing  of  these  matters.  We  have  no  desire  or  right 
to  join  in  what  you  are  about  to  do.  This  is  my  son,  my 
poor  afflicted  son,  d^rer  to  me  than  my  own  life.  In  mercy's 
name,  my  lord,  go  your  way  alone,  and  do  not  tempt  him  into 
danger  ! " 

"  My  good  woman,"  said  Gashford,  "  how  can  you  !  —  Dear 
me  !  —  What  do  you  mean  by  tempting,  and  by  danger  ?  Do 
you  think  his  lordship  is  a  roaring  lion,  going  about  and  seek- 
ing whom  he  may  devour  ?     God  bless  me  !  " 

"  No,  no,  my  lord,  forgive  me,"  implored  the  widow,  laying 
both  her  hands  upon  his  breast,  and  scarcely  knowing  what 


I  ■ 
I  ■ 


.-tU 


BAIiNABT  BUDGE.  417 

she  did,  or  said,  in  the  earnestness  of  her  supplication,  "  but 
there  are  reasons  why  you  should  hear  my  earnest,  mother's 
prayer,  and  leave  my  son  with  me.  Oh  do.  He  is  not  in  his 
right  senses,  he  is  not,  indeed  !  " 

"It  is  a  bad  sign  of  the  wickedness  of  these  times,"  said 
Lord  George,  evading  her  touch,  and  coloring  deeply,  "that 
those  who  cling  to  the  truth  and  support  the  right  cause,  are 
set  down  as  mad.  Have  you  the  heart  to  say  this  of  your 
own  son,  unnatural  mother  !  " 

"  I  am  astonished  at  you  !  "  said  Gashf ord  with  a  kind 
of  meek  severity.  "  This  is  a  very  sad  picture  of  female 
depravity." 

"  He  has  surely  no  appearance,"  said  Lord  George,  glancing 
at  Barnaby,  and  whispering  in  his  secretary's  ear,  "of  being 
deranged  ?  And  even  if  he  had,  we  must  not  construe  any 
trifling  peculiarity  into  madness.  Which  of  us  "  —  and  here 
he  turned  red  again  —  "  would  be  safe,  if  that  were  made  the 
law!" 

"'  Xot  one,"  replied  the  secretary ;  "  in  that  case,  the 
greater  the  zeal,  the  truth,  and  talent ;  the  more  direct  the  call 
from  above ;  the  clearer  would  be  the  madness.  With  re- 
gard to  this  young  man,  my  lord,"  he  added,  with  a  lip  that 
slightly  curled  as  he  looked  at  Barnaby,  who  stood  twirling 
his  hat,  and  stealthily  beckoning  them  to  come  away,  "he  is 
as  sensible  and  self-possessed  as  any  one  I  ever  saw." 

"  And  you  desire  to  make  one  of  this  great  body  ?  "  said 
Lord  George,  addressing  him ;  "  and  intended  to  make  one, 
did  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  said  Barnaby,  with  sparkling  eyes.  "  To  be 
sure  I  did !     I  told  her  so  myself." 

"  I  see,"  replied  Lord  George,  with  a  reproachful  glance  at 
the  unhappy  mother.  "  I  thought  so.  Follow  me  and  this 
gentleman,  and  you  shall  have  your  wish." 

Barnaby  kissed  his  mother  tenderly  on  the  cheek,  and 
bidding  her  be  of  good  cheer,  for  their  fortunes  were  both 
made  now,  did  as  he  was  desired.  She,  poor  woman, 
followed  too  —  with  how  much  fear  and  grief  it  would  be  hard 
to  tell. 

They  passed  quickly  througli  the  Bridge-road,  where  the 
voi>.  I, 


418  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

shops  were  all  shut  up  (for  the  passage  of  the  great  crowd 
and  the  expectation  of  their  return  had  alarmed  the  tradesmen 
for  their  goods  and  windows),  and  where,  in  the  upper 
stories,  all  the  inhabitants  were  congregated,  looking  down 
into  the  street  below,  with  faces  variously  expressive  of  alarm, 
of  interest,  expectancy,  and  indignation.  Some  of  these 
applauded,  and  some  hissed;  but  regardless  of  these  inter- 
ruptions —  for  the  noise  of  a  vast  congregation  of  people  at  a 
little  distance,  sounded  in  his  ears  like  the  roaring  of  a  sea  — 
Lord  George  Gordon  quickened  his  pace,  and  presently  arrived 
before  Saint  George's  Fields. 

They  were  really  fields  at  that  time,  and  of  considerable 
extent.  Here  an  immense  multitude  was  collected,  bearing 
flags  of  various  kinds  and  sizes,  but  all  of  the  same  color  — 
blue,  like  the  cockades  —  some  sections  marching  to  and  fro  in 
military  array,  and  others  drawn  up  in  circles,  squares,  and 
lines.  A  large  portion,  both  of  the  bodies  which  paraded  the 
ground,  and  of  those  which  remained  stationary,  were  occupied 
in  singing  hymns  or  psalms.  With  whomsoever  this  origi- 
nated, it  was  well  done  ;  for  the  sound  of  so  many  thousand 
voices  in  the  air  must  have  stirred  the  heart  of  any  man 
within  him,  and  could  not  fail  to  have  a  wonderful  effect  upon 
enthusiasts,  however  mistaken. 

Scouts  had  been  posted  in  advance  of  the  great  body,  to  give 
notice  of  their  leader's  coming.  These  falling  back,  the  word 
was  quickly  passed  through  the  whole  host,  and  for  a  short 
interval  there  ensued  a  profound  and  death-like  silence,  during 
which  the  mass  was  so  still  and  quiet,  that  the  fluttering  of  a 
banner  caught  the  eye,  and  became  a  circumstance  of  note. 
Then  they  burst  into  a  tremendous  shout,  into  another,  and 
another ;  and  the  air  seemed  rent  and  shaken,  as  if  by  the 
discharge  of  cannon." 

"  Gashford ! "  cried  Lord  George,  pressing  his  secretary's 
arm  tight  within  his  own,  and  speaking  with  as  much  emotion 
in  his  voice  as  in  his  altered  face,  "I  am  called  indeed,  now. 
T  feel  and  know  it.  I  am  the  leader  of  a  host.  If  they  sum- 
moned me  at  this  moment  with  one  voice  to  lead  them  on  to 
death,  I'd  do  it  —  Yes,  and  fall  first  myself." 

"  It  is  a  proud  sight,"  said  the  secretary.     *'  It  is  a  noble 


BARNABY  BULGE.  419 

day  for  England,  and  for  the  great  cause  throughout  the 
workl.  Such  homage^  my  lord,  as  I,  an  humble  but  devoted 
man,  can  render  "  — 

"  What  are  you  doing  !  "  cried  his  master,  catching  him  by 
both  hands ;  for  he  had  made  a  show  of  kneeling  at  his  feet ; 
"  Do  not  unfit  me,  dear  Gashford,  for  the  solemn  duty  of  this 
glorious  day" — the  tears  stood  in  the  eyes  of  the  poor  gen- 
tleman as  he  said  the  words.  —  "  Let  us  go  among  them ;  we 
have  to  find  a  place  in  some  division  for  this  new  recruit  — 
give  me  your  hand." 

Gashford  slid  his  cold  insidious  palm  into  his  master's 
grasp,  and  so,  hand  in  hand,  and  followed  still  by  Barnaby 
and  by  his  mother  too,  they  mingled  with  the  concourse. 

They  had  by  this  time  taken  to  their  singing  again,  and  as 
their  leader  passed  between  their  ranks,  they  raised  their 
voices  to  their  utmost.  Many  of  those  who  were  banded 
together  to  support  the  religion  of  their  country,  even  unto 
death,  had  never  heard  a  hymn  or  psalm  in  all  their  lives.  But 
these  fellows  having  for  the  most  part  strong  lungs,  and  being 
naturally  fond  of  singing,  chanted  any  ribaldry  or  nonsense 
that  occurred  to  them,  feeling  pretty  certain  that  it  would  not 
be  detected  in  the  general  chorus,  and  not  caring  very  much 
if  it  were.  Many  of  these  voluntaries  were  sung  under  the 
very  nose  of  Lord  George  Gordon,  who,  quite  unconscious  of 
their  burden,  passed  on  with  his  usual  stiff  and  solemn  deport- 
ment, very  much  edified  and  delighted  by  the  pious  conduct  of 
his  followers. 

So  they  went  on  and  on,  up  this  line,  down  that,  round  the 
exterior  of  this  circle,  and  on  every  side  of  that  hollow  square  ; 
and  still  there  were  lines,  and  squares,  and  circles  out  of  number 
to  review.  The  day  being  now  intensely  hot,  and  the  sun 
striking  down  his  fiercest  rays  upon  the  field,  those  who 
carried  heavy  banners  began  to  groAv  faint  and  weary  ;  most 
of  the  number  assembled  were  fain  to  pull  off  their  neckcloths, 
and  throw  their  coats  and  waistcoats  open  ;  and  some,  towards 
the  centre,  quite  overpowered  by  the  excessive  heat,  which 
was  of  course  rendered  more  unendurable  by  the  multitude 
around  them,  lay  down  upon  the  grass,  and  offered  all  tliey 
had  about  them  for  a  drink  of  water.     Still,  no  man  left  the 


420  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

ground,  not  even  of  those  who  were  so  distressed ;  still,  Lord 
George,  streaming  from  every  pore,  went  on  with  Gashford ; 
and  still  Barnaby  and  his  mother  followed  close  behind  them. 

They  had  arrived  at  the  top  of  a  long  line  of  some  eight 
hundred  men  in  single  file,  and  Lord  George  had  turned  his 
head  to  look  back,  when  a  loud  cry  of  recognition — in  that 
peculiar  and  half-stifled  tone  which  a  'voice  has,  when  it  is 
raised  in  the  open  air  and  in  the  midst  of  a  great  concourse  of 
persons  —  was  heard,  and  a  man  stepped  with  a  shout  of 
laughter  from  the  rank,  and  smote  Barnaby  on  the  shoulders 
with  his  heavy  hand. 

"  How  now  !  "  he  cried.  ''  Barnaby  Rudge  !  Why,  where 
have  you  been  hiding  for  these  hundred  years  !  " 

Barnaby  had  been  thinking  within  himself  that  the  smell 
of  the  trodden  grass  brought  back  his  old  days  at  cricket, 
when  he  was  a  young  boy  and  played  on  Chigwell  Green. 
Confused  by  this  sudden  and  boisterous  address,  he  stared  in 
a  bewildered  manner  at  the  man,  and  could  scarcely  say 
"  What !  Hugh  !  " 

"  Hugh  !  "  echoed  the  other ;  "  ay,  Hugh  —  Maypole  Hugh  ! 
You  remember  my  dog  ?  He's  alive  now,  and  will  know  you, 
I  warrant.  What,  you  wear  the  color,  do  j'ou  ?  Well  done  ! 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"  You  know  this  young  man,  I  see,"  said  Lord  George. 

"  Know  him,  my  lord  !  as  well  as  I  know  my  own  right 
hand.     My  captain  knows  him.     We  all  know  him." 

"Will  you  take  him  into  your  division  ?  " 

"  It  hasn't  in  it  a  better,  nor  a  nimbler,  nor  a  more  active 
man  than  Barnaby  Rudge,"  said  Hugh.  '^Show  me  the 
man  who  says  it  has  !  Fall  in,  Barnaby.  He  shall  march, 
my  lord,  between  me  and  Dennis ;  and  he  shall  carry,"  he 
added,  taking  a  flag  from  the  hand  of  a  tired  man  who 
tendered  it,  "  the  gayest  silken  streamer  in  this  valiant 
army." 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  no  I "  shrieked  the  widow,  darting 
forward.  "Barnaby  —  my  lord  —  see  —  he'll  come  back  — 
Barnaby  —  Barnaby  !  " 

"  Women  in  the  field ! "  cried  Hugh,  stepping  between 
them,  and  holding  her  off.     "  Holloa  !     My  captain  there  ! " 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  421 

"What's  the  matter  here  ?  "  cried  Simon  Tappertit,  bustling 
up  in  a  great  heat.     "  Do  you  call  this  order  ?  " 

"Nothing  like  it,  captain,"  answered  Hugh,  still  holding 
her  back  with  his  outstretched  hand.  "  It's  against  all 
orders.  Ladies  are  carrying  off  our  gallant  soldiers  from 
their  duty.  The  word  of  command,  captain  I  They're  filing 
off  the  ground.     Quick  !  " 

"'  Close  !  *'  cried  Simon,  with  the  whole  power  of  his  lungs. 
"  Form  !     IMarch  !  " 

She  was  thrown  to  the  ground ;  the  whole  field  was  in 
motion ;  Barnaby  was  whirled  away  into  the  heart  of  a  dense 
mass  of  men,  and  she  saw  him  no  more. 


422  BAEyABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

The  mob  had  been  divided  from  its  first  assemblage  into 
four  divisions ;  the  London,  the  Westminster,  the  Southwark, 
and  the  Scotch.  Each  of  these  divisions  being  subdivided 
into  various  bodies,  and  these  bodies  being  drawn  up  in 
various  forms  and  figures,  the  general  arrangement  was, 
except  to  the  few  chiefs  and  leaders,  as  unintelligible  as  the 
plan  of  a  great  battle  to  the  meanest  soldier  in  the  field.  It 
was  not  without  its  method,  however ;  for,  in  a  very  short 
space  of  time  after  being  put  in  motion,  the  crowd  had 
resolved  itself  into  three  great  parties,  and  were  prepared,  as 
had  been  arranged,  to  cross  the  river  by  different  bridges,  and 
make  for  the  House  of  Commons  in  separate  detachments. 

At  the  head  of  that  division  which  had  Westminster  Bridge 
for  its  approach  to  the  scene  of  action.  Lord  George  Gordon 
took  his  post ;  with  Gashford  at  his  right  hand,  and  sundry 
ruffians  of  most  unpromising  appearance,  forming  a  kind  of 
staff  about  him.  The  conduct  of  a  second  party  whose  route 
lay  by  Blackfriars,  was  intrusted  to  a  committee  of  manage- 
ment, including  perhaps  a  dozen  men :  while  the  third,  which 
was  to  go  by  London  Bridge,  and  through  the  main  streets, 
in  order  that  their  numbers  and  their  serious  intentions  might 
be  the  better  known  and  appreciated  by  the  citizens,  were  led 
by  Simon  Tappertii?  (assisted  by  a  few  subalterns,  selected 
from  the  Brotherhood  of  United  Bulldogs),  Dennis  the  hang- 
man, Hugh,  and  some  others. 

The  word  of  command  being  given,  each  of  these  great 
bodies  took  the  road  assigned  to  it,  and  departed  on  its  way, 
in  perfect  order  and  profound  silence.  That  which  went 
through  the  City  greatly  exceeded  the  others  in  number,  and 
was  of  such  prodigious  extent  that  when  the  rear  began  to 
move,  the  front  was  nearly  four  miles  in  advance,  notwith- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  423 

standing  that  the  men  marched  three  abreast  and  followed 
very  close  upon  each  other. 

At  the  head  of  this  party,  in  the  place  where  Hugh,  in  the 
madness  of  his  humor,  had  stationed  him,  and  walking 
between  that  dangerous  companion  and  the  hangman,  went 
Barnaby ;  as  many  a  man  among  the  thousands  who  looked 
on  that  day  afterwards  remembered  well.  Forgetful  of  all 
other  things  in  the  ecstasy  of  the  moment,  his  face  flushed 
and  his  eyes  sparkling  with  delight,  heedless  of  the  weight  of 
the  great  banner  he  carried,  and  mindful  only  of  its  flashing 
in  the  sun  and  rustling  in  the  summer  breeze,  on  he  went, 
proud,  happy,  elated  past  all  telling  :  —  the  only  light-hearted, 
undesigning  creature,  in  the  whole  assembly. 

"  What  do  3'ou  think  of  this  ?  "  asked  Hugh,  as  they  passed 
through  the  crowded  streets,  and  looked  up  at  the  windows 
which  were  thronged  with  spectators.  "They  have  all  turned 
out  to  see  our  flags  and  streamers  ?  Eh,  Barnaby  ?  Why, 
Barnaby's  the  greatest  man  of  all  the  pack  !  His  flag's  the 
largest  of  the  lot,  the  brightest  too.  There's  nothing  in  the 
show  like  Barnaby.  All  eyes  are  turned  on  him.  Pla,  ha, 
ha!" 

"Don't  make  that  din,  brother,"  growled  the  hangman, 
glancing  with  no  very  approving  eyes  at  Barnaby  as  he  spoke  : 
"I  hope  he  don't  tliink  there's  nothing  to  be  done,  but 
carrying  that  there  piece  of  blue  rag,  like  a  boy  at  a  breaking- 
up.  You're  ready  for  action,  I  hope,  eh  ?  You,  I  mean,"  he 
added,  nudging  Barnaby  roughly  with  his  elbow.  "  What  are 
you  staring  at  ?     Why  don't  you  speak  ?  " 

Barnaby  had  been  gazing  at  his  flag,  and  looked  vacantly 
from  his  questioner  to  Hugh. 

"  He  don't  understand  your  way,"  said  the  latter.  '•  Here, 
I'll  explain  it  to  him.     Barnaby,  old  boy,  attend  to  me." 

"  I'll  attend,"  said  Barnaby,  looking  anxiously  round : 
''  but  I  wish  I  could  see  her  somewhere." 

"See  wlio  ? "  demanded  Dennis  in  a  gruff  tone.  "You 
ain't  in  love,  I  hope,  brother  ?  That  ain't  tlie  sort  of  tiling 
for  us,  you  know.     AVe  mustn't  have  no  love  here." 

"  She  would  be  ])roud  indeed  to  see  me  now,  eh,  Hugh  ?  " 
said  Barnaby.     "AN'ouldn't  it  make  her  glad  to  see  me  at  the 


424  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

head  of  this  large  show  ?  She'd  cry  with  joy,  I  know  she 
would.  Where  can  she  be.  She  never  sees  me  at  my  best, 
and  what  do  I  care  to  be  gay  and  fine  if  she^s  not  by  ?  " 

"  Why,  what  palaver's  this  ? "  asked  ]Mr.  Dennis  with 
supreme  disdain.  "We  ain't  got  no  sentimental  members 
among  us,  I  hope." 

"  Don't  be  uneasy,  brother,"  cried  Hugh,  "  he's  only  talk- 
ing of  his  mother." 

"Of  his  what  ?"  said  jNIr.  Dennis  with  a  strong  oath. 

"His  mother." 

"  And  have  I  combined  myself  with  this  here  section,  and 
turned  out  on  this  here  memorable  da}^,  to  hear  men  talk 
about  their  mothers  ! "  growled  Mr.  Dennis  with  extreme 
disgust.  "  The  notion  of  a  man's  sweetheart's  bad  enough, 
but  a  man's  mother  !"  —  and  here  his  disgust  was  so  extreme 
that  he  spat  upon  the  ground,  and  could  say  no  more. 

"Barnaby's  right,"  cried  Hugh  with  a  grin,  "and  I  say 
it.  Lookee,  bold  lad.  If  she's  not  here  to  see,  it's  because 
I've  provided  for  her,  and  sent  half  a  dozen  gentlemen,  every 
one  of  'em  with  a  blue  flag  (but  not  half  as  line  as  yours),  to 
take  her,  in  state,  to  a  grand  house  all  hung  round  with  gold 
and  silver  banners,  and  everything  else  you  please,  where 
she'll  wait  till  you  come,  and  want  for  nothing." 

"  Ay ! "  said  Barnaby,  his  face  beaming  with  delight : 
"  have  you  indeed  ?  That's  a  good  hearing.  That's  fine ! 
Kind  Hugh ! " 

"But  nothing  to  what  will  come,  bless  you,"  retorted 
Hugh,  with  a  wink  at  Dennis,  who  regarded  his  new  com- 
panion in  arms  with  great  astonishment. 

"'  Xo,  indeed  ?  "  cried  Barnaby. 

"  ISTothing  at  all,"  said  Hugh.  "  Money,  cocked  hats  and 
feathers,  red  coats  and  gold  lace ;  all  the  fine  things  there  are, 
ever  w^ere,  or  will  be ;  will  belong  to  us  if  we  are  true  to  that 
noble  gentleman  — the  best  man  in  the  world  —  carry  our  flags 
for  a  few  daj'S,  and  keep  'em  safe.    That's  all  we've  got  to  do." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  cried  Barnaby  with  glistening  e3^es,  as  he 
clutched  his  pole  the  tighter  ;  "  I  warrant  you  I  keep  this  one 
safe,  then.  You  have  put  it  in  good  hands.  You  know  me, 
Hugh.     Nobody  shall  w^rest  this  flag  away." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  425 

"Well  said!"  cried  Hugh.  ^^Ha,  ha!  Nobly  said! 
That's  the  old  stout  Barnaby,  that  I  have  climbed  and  leaj^ed 
with,  many  and  many  a  day  —  I  knew  I  was  not  mistaken  in 
Barnaby.  —  Don't  you  see  man,"  he  added  in  a  whisper,  as  he 
slipped  to  the  other  side  of  Dennis,  "  that  the  lad's  a  natural, 
and  can  be  got  to  do  anything,  if  you  take  him  the  right 
way.  Letting  alone  the  fun  he  is,  he's  worth  a  dozen  men, 
in  earnest,  as  you'd  find  if  you  tried  a  fall  with  him.  Leave 
him  to  me.     You  shall  soon  see  whether  he's  of  use  or  not." 

Mr.  Dennis  received  these  explanatory  remarks  with  many 
nods  and  winks,  and  softened  his  behavior  towards  Barnaby 
from  that  moment.  Hugh,  laying  his  finger  on  his  nose, 
stepped  back  into  his  former  place,  and  they  proceeded  in 
silence. 

It  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when 
the  three  great  parties  met  at  Westminster,  and,  uniting  into 
one  huge  mass,  raised  a  tremendous  shout.  This  was  not  only 
doiie  in  token  of  their  presence,  but  as  a  signal  to  those  on 
whom  the  task  devolved,  that  it  was  time  to  take  possession 
of  the  lobbies  of  both  Houses,  and  of  the  various  avenues  of 
approach,  and  of  the  gallery  stairs.  To  the  last-named  place, 
Hugh  and  Dennis,  still  with  their  pupil  between  them,  rushed 
straightway  ;  Barnaby  having  given  his  flag  into  the  hands 
of  one  of  their  own  party,  who  kept  them  at  the  outer  door. 
Their  followers  pressing  on  behind,  they  were  borne  as  on  a 
great  wave  to  the  very  doors  of  the  gallery,  whence  it  was 
impossible  to  retreat,  even  if  they  had  been  so  inclined,  by 
reason  of  the  throng  which  choked  up  the  passages.  It  is  a 
familiar  expression  in  describing  a  great  crowd,  that  a  person 
might  have  walked  upon  the  people's  heads.  In  this  case  it 
was  actually  done;  for  a  boy  who  had  by  some  means  got 
among  the  concourse,  and  was  in  imminent  danger  of  suffoca- 
tion, climbed  to  the  shoulders  of  a  man  beside  him  and 
walked  upon  the  people's  hats  and  heads  into  the  open  street ; 
traversing  in  his  passage  the  whole  length  of  two  staircases 
and  a  long  gallery.  Nor  was  the  swarm  without  less  dense  ; 
for  a  basket  wliich  had  been  tossed  into  the  crowd,  was  jerked 
from  head  to  head,  and  shoulder  to  slioulder,  and  went  spin- 
ning and  whirling  on  above  them,  until  it  was  lost  to  view, 


426  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

without  ever  once  falling  in  among  tliem  or  coming  near  the 
ground. 

Through  this  vast  throng,  sprinkled  doubtless  here  and 
there  with  honest  zealots,  but  composed  for  the  most  part 
of  the  very  scum  and  refuse  of  London,  whose  growth  was 
fostered  by  bad  criminal  laws,  bad  prison  regulations,  and  the 
worst  conceivable  police,  such  of  the  members  of  both  Houses 
of  Parliament  as  had  not  taken  the  precaution  to  be  already 
at  their  posts,  were  compelled  to  fight  and  force  their  way. 
Their  carriages  were  stopped  and  broken ;  the  wheels 
wrenched  off ;  the  glasses  shivered  to  atoms  ;  the  panels 
beaten  in ;  drivers,  footmen,  and  masters,  pulled  from  their 
seats  and  rolled  in  the  mud.  Lords,  commoners,  and  reverend 
bishops,  with  little  distinction  of  person  or  party,  were 
kicked  and  pinched  and  hustled ;  passed  from  hand  to  hand 
through  various  stages  of  ill-usage ;  and  sent  to  their  fellow- 
senators  at  last  with  their  clothes  hanging  in  ribbons  about 
them,  their  bagwigs  torn  off,  themselves  speechless  and 
breathless,  and  their  persons  covered  with  the  powder  which 
had  been  cuffed  and  beaten  out  of  their  hair.  One  lord  w^as 
so  long  in  the  hands  of  the  populace,  that  the  Peers  as  a 
body  resolved  to  sally  forth  and  rescue  him,  and  were  in  the 
act  of  doing  so,  when  he  hapjiily  api;)eared  among  them  cov- 
ered with  dirt  and  bruises,  and  hardly  to  be  recognized  by 
those  who  knew  him  best.  The  noise  and  uproar  were  on 
the  increase  every  moment.  The  air  was  filled  with  execrations, 
hoots,  and  bowlings.  The  mob  raged  and  roared  like  a  mad 
monster  as  it  was,  unceasingly,  and  each  new  outrage  served 
to  swell  its  fury. 

Within  doors,  matters  were  even  yet  more  threatening. 
Lord  George  —  preceded  by  a  man  who  carried  the  immense 
petition  on  a  porter's  knot  through  the  lobby  to  the  door  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  where  it  was  received  by  two  officers 
of  the  house  who  rolled  it  up  to  the  table  ready  for  presenta- 
tion—  had  taken  his  seat  at  an  early  hour,  before  the  Speaker 
went  to  prayers.  His  followers  pouring  in  at  the  same  time, 
the  lobby  and  all  the  avenues  were  immediately  filled,  as  we 
have  seen.  Thus  the  members  were  not  only  attacked  in 
their  passage  through  the  streets,  but  were  set  upon  within 


OUTSIDE    THE    GALLERY. 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  427 

the  very  walls  of  Parliament ;  while  the  tumult,  both  within 
and  without,  was  so  great,  that  those  who  attempted  to  speak 
could  scarcely  hear  their  own  voices :  far  less  consult  upon 
the  course  it  would  be  wise  to  take  in  such  extremity,  or 
animate  each  other  to  dignified  and  firm  resistance.  So  sure 
as  any  member,  just  arrived,  with  dress  disordered  and 
dishevelled  hair,  came  struggling  through  the  crowd  in  the 
lobby,  it  yelled  and  screamed  in  triumph ;  and  when  the  door 
of  the  House  partially  and  cautiously  opened  by  those  within 
for  his  admission,  gave  them  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the 
interior,  they  grew  more  wild  and  savage,  like  beasts  at  the 
sight  of  prey,  and  made  a  rush  against  the  portal,  which 
strained  its  locks  and  bolts  in  their  staples,  and  shook  the 
very  beams. 

The  strangers'  gallery,  which  was  immediately  above  the 
door  of  the  House,  had  been  ordered  to  be  closed  on  the  first 
rumor  of  disturbance,  and  was  empty ;  save  that  now  and 
then  Lord  George  took  his  seat  there,  for  the  convenience  of 
coming  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  which  led  to  it,  and  repeating 
to  the  people  what  had  passed  within.  It  was  on  these  stairs 
that  Barnaby,  Hugh,  and  Dennis  were  posted.  There  were 
two  flights,  short,  steep,  and  narrow,  running  parallel  to  each 
other,  and  leading  to  two  little  doors  communicating  with  a 
low  passage  which  opened  on  the  gallery.  Between  them 
was  a  kind  of  well,  or  unglazed  skylight,  for  the  admission  of 
light  and  air  into  the  lobby,  which  might  be  some  eighteen  or 
twenty  feet  below. 

Upon  one  of  these  little  staircases  —  not  that  at  the  head 
of  which  Lord  George  appeared  from  time  to  time,  but  the 
other  —  Gashford  stood  with  his  elbow  on  the  banister,  and 
his  cheek  resting  on  his  hand,  with  his  usual  crafty  aspect. 
Whenever  he  varied  this  attitude  in  the  slightest  degree  — 
so  much  as  by  the  gentlest  motion  of  his  arm  —  the  uproar  was 
certain  to  increase,  not  merely  there,  but  in  the  lobby  below  ; 
from  which  place,  no  doubt,  some  man  who  acted  as  fugleman 
to  the  rest,  was  constantly  looking  up  and  watching  him. 

"Order!''  cried  Hugh,  in  a  voice  whicli  made  itself  heard 
even  above  the  roar  and  tumult,  as  Lord  George  appeared  at 
the  top  of  the  staircase.     ''  News  !     News  from  my  lord  ! '' 


428  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

The  noise  continued,  notwithstanding  his  appearance,  until 
Gashford  looked  round.  There  was  silence  immediately  — 
even  among  the  people  in  the  passages  without,  and  on  the 
other  staircases,  who  could  neither  see  nor  hear,  but  to  whom, 
notwithstanding,  the  signal  was  conveyed  with  marvellous 
rapidity. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Lord  George,  who  was  very  pale  and 
agitated,  '•'  We  must  be  firm.  They  talk  of  delays,  but  we 
must  have  no  delays.  They  talk  of  taking  your  petition  into 
consideration  next  Tuesday,  but  we  must  have  it  considered 
now.  Present  appearances  look  bad  for  our  success,  but  we 
must  succeed  and  will ! " 

"  We  must  succeed  and  will !  "  echoed  the  crowd.  And  so 
among  their  shouts  and  cheers  and  other  cries,  he  bowed  to 
them  and  retired,  and  presently  came  back  again.  There  was 
another  gesture  from  Gashford,  and  a  dead  silence  directly. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  this  time,  "that  we  have  little 
reason,  gentlemen,  to  hope  for  any  redress  from  the  proceed- 
ings of  Parliament.  But  we  must  redress  our  own  grievances, 
we  must  meet  again,  we  must  put  our  trust  in  Providence, 
and  it  will  bless  our  endeavors." 

This  speech  being  a  little  more  temperate  than  the  last, 
was  not  so  favorably  received.  When  the  noise  and  exaspera- 
tion were  at  their  height,  he  came  back  once  more,  and  told 
them  that  the  alarm  had  gone  forth  for  man}-  miles  round  ; 
that  when  the  King  heard  of  their  assembling  together  in 
that  great  body,  he  had  no  doubt  His  Majesty  would  send 
down  private  orders  to  have  their  wishes  complied  with ;  and 
—  with  the  manner  of  his  speech  as  childish,  irresolute,  and 
uncertain  as  his  matter  —  was  proceeding  in  this  strain,  when 
two  gentlemen  suddenly  appeared  at  the  door  where  he  stood, 
and  pressing  past  him  and  coming  a  step  or  two  lower  down 
upon  the  stairs,  confronted  the  people. 

The  boldness  of  this  action  quite  took  them  by  surprise. 
They  were  not  the  less  disconcerted,  when  one  of  the  gentle- 
men, turning  to  Lord  George,  spoke  thus  —  in  a  loud  voice 
that  they  might  hear  him  well,  but  quite  coolly  and  collectedly. 

"  You  may  tell  these  people,  if  you  please,  my  lord,  that  I 
am  General  Conway  of  whom  they  have  heard;   and  that  I 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  429 

oppose  this  petition,  and  all  their  proceedings,  and  3'ours. 
I  am  a  soldier,  3*011  may  tell  them,  and  I  will  protect  the 
freedom  of  this  place  with  m^^  sword.  You  see,  my  lord,  that 
the  members  of  this  House  are  all  in  arms  to-day ;  you  know 
that  the  entrance  to  it  is  a  narrow  one :  you  cannot  be  igno- 
rant that  there  are  men  within  these  walls  who  are  deter- 
mined to  defend  that  pass  to  the  last,  and  before  whom  many 
lives  must  fall  if  your  adherents  persevere.  Have  a  care 
what  you  do." 

"And  my  Lord  George,"  said  the  other  gentleman,  address- 
ing him  in  like  manner,  '•  I  desire  them  to  hear  this,  from  me 
—  Colonel  Gordon  —  your  near  relation.  If  a  man  among 
this  crowd,  whose  uproar  strikes  us  deaf,  crosses  the  threshold 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  I  swear  to  run  my  sword  that 
moment  —  not  into  his,  but  into  your  bod}^ !  " 
4 With  that  they  stepped  back  again,  keeping  their  faces 
towards  the  crowd ;  took  each  an  arm  of  the  misguided  noble- 
man ;  drew  him  into  the  passage,  and  shut  the  door ;  which 
they  directly  locked  and  fastened  on  the  inside. 

This  was  so  quickly  done,  and  the  demeanor  of  both  gentle- 
men —  who  were  not  young  men  either  —  was  so  gallant  and 
resolute,  that  the  crowd  faltered  and  stared  at  each  other  with 
irresolute  and  timid  looks.  INIany  tried  to  turn  towards  the 
door ;  some  of  the  faintest-hearted  cried  that  the}-  had  best  go 
back,  and  called  to  those  behind  to  give  way  ;  and  the  panic 
and  confusion  were  increasing  rapidly;,  when  Gashford  whis- 
pered Hugh. 

'•  What  now  !  "  Hugh  roared  aloud,  turning  towards  them. 
"  Why  go  back  ?  Where  can  you  do  better  than  here,  boys  ! 
One  good  rush  against  these  doors  and  one  below  at  the  same 
time,  will  do  the  business.  Eush  on,  then  !  As  to  the  door 
below,  let  those  stand  back  who  are  afraid.  Let  those  who 
are  not  afraid,  try  who  shall  be  the  first  to  pass  it.  Here 
goes.     Look  out  down  there  !  " 

Without  the  delay  of  an  instant,  he  threw  himself  lu-adlong 
over  the  banisters  into  the  lobV)y  below.  He  liad  hardly 
touched  the  ground  when  Larnaljy  was  at  his  side.  The 
chaplain's  assistant,  and  some  members  who  were  imploring 
the  people  to  retire,  immediately  withdrew;  and  then,  with  a 


430  BAEXABY  BUDGE. 

great  shout,  both  crowds  threw  themselves  against  the  doors 
pell-mell,  and  besieged  the  House  in  earnest. 

At  that  moment,  when  a  second  onset  must  have  brought 
them  into  collision  with  those  who  stood  on  the  defensive 
within,  in  which  case  great  loss  of  life  and  bloodshed  would 
inevitably  have  ensued,  —  the  hindmost  portion  of  the  crowd 
gave  way,  and  the  rumor  spread  from  mouth  to  mouth  that  a 
messenger  had  been  despatched  by  water  for  the  military, 
who  were  forming  in  the  street.  Fearful  of  ^sustaining  a 
charge  in  the  narrow  passages  in  which  they  were  so  closely 
wedged  together,  the  throng  poured  out  as  impetuously  as 
they  had  flocked  in.  As  the  whole  stream  turned  at  once, 
Barnaby  and  Hugh  went  with  it  ;  and  so,  fighting  and 
struggling  and  trampling  on  fallen  men  and  being  trampled 
on  in  turn  themselves,  they  and  the  whole  mass  floated  by 
degrees  into  the  open  street,  where  a  large  detachment  of  tlije 
Guards,  both  horse  and  foot,  came  hurrying  up ;  clearing  the 
ground  before  them  so  rapidly  that  the  people  seemed  to  melt 
away  as  they  advanced. 

The  word  of  command  to  halt  being  given,  the  soldiers 
formed  across  the  street ;  the  rioters,  breathless  and  exhausted 
with  their  late  exertions,  formed  likewise,  though  in  a  very 
irregular  and  disorderly  manner.  The  commanding  officer 
rode  hastily  into  the  open  space  between  the  two  bodies 
accompanied  by  a  magistrate  and  an  officer  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  for  whose  accommodation  a  couple  of  troopers  had 
hastily  dismounted.  The  Kiot  Act  was  read,  but  not  a  man 
stirred. 

In  the  first  rank  of  the  insurgents,  Barnaby  and  Hugh 
stood  side  by  side.  Somebody  had  thrust  into  Barnaby's 
hands  when  he  came  out  into  the  street,  his  precious  flag ; 
which,  being  now  rolled  up  and  tied  round  the  pole,  looked 
like  a  giant  quarter-staff  as  he  grasped  it  firmly  and  stood 
upon  his  guard.  If  ever  man  believed  with  his  whole  heart 
and  soul  that  he  was  engaged  in  a  just  cause,  and  that  he  was 
bound  to  stand  by  his  leader  to  the  last,  poor  Barnaby  believed 
it  of  himself  and  Lord  George  Gordon. 

After  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  make  himself  heard,  the 
magistrate  crave  the  word  and  the  Horse  Guards  came  riding 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  431 

in  among  the  crowd.  But,  even  then,  he  galloped  here  and 
there,  exhorting  the  people  to  disperse  ;  and  although  heav}- 
stones  were  thrown  at  the  men,  and  some  were  desperately 
cut  and  bruised,  they  had  no  orders  but  to  make  prisoners  of 
such  of  the  rioters  as  were  the  most  active,  and  to  drive  the 
people  back  with  the  flat  of  their  sabres.  As  the  horses  came  . 
in  among  them,  the  throng  gave  way  at  many  points,  and  the 
Guards,  following  up  their  advantage,  were  rapidly  clearing 
the  ground,  when  two  or  three  of  the  foremost,  who  were  in 
a  manner  cut  off  from  the  rest  by  the  people  closing  round 
them,  made  straight  towards  Barnaby  and  Hugh,  who  had  no 
doubt  been  pointed  out  as  the  two  men  who  dropped  into  the 
lobby :  laying  about  them  now  with  some  effect,  and  inflicting 
on  the  more  turbulent  of  their  opponents,  a  few  slight  flesh 
wounds,  under  the  influence  of  which  a  man  dropped,  here 
and  there,  into  the  arms  of  his  fellows,  amid  much  groaning 
and  confusion. 

At  the  sight  of  gashed  and  bloody  faces,  seen  for  a  moment 
in  the  crowd,  then  hidden  by  the  press  around  them,  Barnaby 
turned  pale  and  sick.  But  he  stood  his  ground,  and  grasping 
his  pole  more  firmly  yet,  kept  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  nearest 
soldier  —  nodding  his  head  meanwhile,  as  Hugh,  with  a 
scowling  visage,  whispered  in  his  ear. 

The  soldier  came  spurring  on,  making  his  horse  rear  as  the 
people  pressed  about  him,  cutting  at  the  hands  of  those  who 
would  have  grasped  his  rein  and  forced  his  charger  back,  and 
waving  to  his  comrades  to  follow  — and  still  Barnaby,  without 
retreating  an  inch,  waited  for  his  coming.  Some  called  to 
him  to  fly,  and  some  were  in  the  very  act  of  closing  round 
him,  to  prevent  his  being  taken,  when  the  pole  swept  the  air 
above  the  people's  heads,  and  the  man's  saddle  was  empty  in 
an  instant. 

Then,  he  and  Hugh  turned  and  fled ;  tlie  crowd  opening  to 
let  tliem  pass,  and  closing  up  again  so  quickly  that  there  was 
no  clew  to  the  course  they  had  taken.  Panting  for  breath, 
hot,  dusty,  and  exhausted  witli  fatigue,  they  reached  the  river- 
side in  safety,  and  getting  into  a  boat  with  all  despatch  were 
soon  out  of  any  immediate  danger. 

As    tliey  glided    down    tlic    river,    thry    ])l;iinly    licanl    llu' 


432  BARXABT  RVDGE. 

people  cheering ;  and  supposing  they  might  have  forced  the 
sohliers  to  retreat,  lay  upon  their  oars  for  a  few  minutes, 
uncertain  whether  to  return  or  not.  But  the  crowd  passing 
along  Westminster  Bridge,  soon  assured  them  that  the  popu- 
lace were  dispersing ;  and  Hugh  rightly  guessed  from  this, 
that  they  had  cheered  the  magistrate  for  offering  to  dismiss 
the  military  on  condition  of  their  immediate  departure  to  their 
several  homes,  and  that  he  and  Barnaby  were  better  where 
they  were.  He  advised,  therefore,  that  they  should  proceed 
to  Blackfriars,  and,  going  ashore  at  the  bridge,  make  the  best 
of  their  way  to  The  Boot ;  where  there  was  not  only  good 
entertainment  and  safe  lodging,  but  where  they  would  cer- 
tainly be  joined  by  many  of  their  late  companions.  Barnaby 
assenting,  they  decided  on  this  course  of  action,  and  pulled 
for  Blackfriars  accordingly. 

They  landed  at  a  critical  time,,  and  fortunately  for  them- 
selves at  the  right  moment.  For,  coming  into  Fleet  Street, 
they  found  it  in  an  unusual  stir ;  and  inquiring  the  cause, 
were  told  that  a  body  of  Horse  Guards  had  just  galloped  past, 
and  that  they  were  escorting  some  rioters  whom  they  had 
made  prisoners,  to  Xewgate  for  safety.  Xot  at  all  ill-pleased 
to  have  so  narrowly  escaped  the  cavalcade,  they  lost  no  more 
time  in  asking  questions,  but  hurried  to  The  Boot  with  as 
much  speed  as  Hugh  considered  it  prudent  to  make,  without 
appearing  singular  or  attracting  an  inconvenient  share  of 
public  notice. 


BAliyABV  Rl'DGE.  Ao[ 


CHAPTER   L. 

They  were  among  the  first  to  reach  the  tavern,  but  they 
had  not  been  there  many  minutes,  when  several  groups  of 
men  who  had  formed  part  of  the  crowd,  came  straggling  in. 
Among  them  were  Simon  Tappertit  and  Mr.  Dennis  ;  both  of 
whom,  but  especially  the  latter,  greeted  Barnaby  with  the 
utmost  warmth,  and  paid  him  many  compliments  on  the 
prowess  he  had  shown. 

"Which,"  said  Dennis,  with  an  oath,  as  he  rested  his 
bludgeon  in  a  corner  with  his  hat  upon  it,  and  took  his  seat 
at  the  same  table  with  them,  '-it  does  me  good  to  think  of. 
There  was  a  opportunity  !  But  it  led  to  nothing.  For  my 
part,  I  don't  know  what  would.  There's  no  spirit  among  the 
people  in  these  here  times.  Bring  something  to  eat  and  drink 
here.     I'm  disgusted  with  humanity." 

"  On  what  account  ?  "  asked  ^Ir.  Tappertit,  who  had  been 
quenching  his  fiery  face  in  a  half-gallon  can.  ''Don't  you 
consider  this  a  good  beginning,  mister  ?  " 

"  Give  me  security  that  it  ain't  a  ending,"  rejoined  the 
hangman.  "  When  that  soldier  went  down,  we  might  have 
made  London  ours  ;  but  no  ;  —  we  stand,  and  gape,  and  look 
on  —  the  justice  (I  wish  he  had  had  a  bullet  in  each  eye,  as  he 
would  have  had,  if  we'd  gone  to  work  my  way)  says,  '  My 
lads,  if  you'll  give  me  your  word  to  disperse,  I'll  order  off 
the  military,' — our  people  sets  up  a  hurrah,  throws  up  tlie 
game  with  the  winning  cards  in  their  hands,  and  skulks  away 
like  a  pack  of  tame  curs  as  they  are.  Ah,"  said  the  hang- 
man, in  a  tone  of  deep  disgust,  "  it  makes  me  blush  for  my 
feller-creeturs.     I  wish  I  had  been  born  a  ox,  I  do  !  " 

"  You'd  have  been  quite  as  agreeable  a  cliaracter  if  you  liad 
been,  I  think,"  returned  Simon  Tappertit,  going  out  in  a  lofty 
manner. 

VOL.  I. 


434  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

*'  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  rejoined  the  hangman,  calling 
after  him  ;  "  if  I  was  a  horned  animal  at  the  present  moment, 
with  the  smallest  grain  of  sense,  "  I'd  toss  every  man  in  this 
compain^,  excepting  them  two,"  meaning  Hugh  and  Barnaby, 
"  for  his  manner  of  conducting  himself  this  day." 

With  which  mournful  review  of  their  proceedings,  Mr. 
Dennis  sought  consolation  in  cold  boiled  beef  and  beer;  but 
without  at  all  relaxing  the  grim  and  dissatisfied  expression  of 
his  face,  the  gloom  of  which  was  rather  deepened  than  dissi- 
pated by  their  grateful  influence. 

The  company  who  were  thus  libelled  might  have  retaliated 
by  strong  words,  if  not  by  blows,  but  they  were  dispirited  and 
worn  out.  The  greater  part  of  them  had  fasted  since  ]norn- 
ing ;  all  had  suffered  extremely  from  the  excessive  heat ;  and 
between  the  day's  shouting,  exertion,  and  excitement,  many 
had  quite  lost  their  voices,  and  so  much  of  their  strength  that 
they  could  hardly  stand.  Then  they  were  uncertain  what  to 
do  next,  fearful  of  the  consequences  of  what  they  had  done 
already,  and  sensible  that  after  all  they  had  carried  no  point, 
but  had  indeed  left  matters  worse  than  they  had  found  them. 
Of  those  who  had  come  to  The  Boot,  many  dropped  off  within 
an  hour;  such  of  them  as  were  really  honest  and  sincere, 
never,  after  the  morning's  experience,  to  return,  or  to  hold 
any  communication  with  their  late  companions.  Otliers 
remained  but  to  refresh  themselves,  and  then  went  home  de- 
sponding; others  who  had  theretofore  been  regular  in  their 
attendance,  avoided  the  place  altogether.  The  half-dozen 
prisoners  whom  the  Guards  had  taken,  were  magnified  by 
report  into  half  a  hundred  at  least ;  and  their  friends,  being 
faint  and  sober,  so  slackened  in  their  energy,  and  so  drooped 
beneath  these  dispiriting  influences,  that  by  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  Dennis,  Hugh,  and  Barnaby,  were  left  alone. 
Even  they  were  fast  asleep  upon  the  benches,  when  Gashford's 
entrance  roused  them. 

'•Oh!  You  are  here  then?"  said  the  secretary.  "Dear 
me !  " 

"Why,  where  should  we  be.  Muster  Gashford!"  Dennis 
rejoined  as  he  rose  into  a  sitting  posture. 

"  Oh,  nowhere,  nowhere,"  he  returned  with  excessive  mild- 


BAR  NAB  Y  BUDGE.  435 

ness.  "The  streets  are  filled  with  blue  cockades.  I  rather 
thought  you  might  have  been  among  them.  I  am  glad  you 
are  not." 

"  You  have  orders  for  us,  master,  then  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

"Oh,  dear,  no.  Not  I.  No  orders,  my  good  fellow. 
What  orders  should  I  have  ?     You  are  not  in  my  service." 

"  Muster  Gashford  !  "  remonstrated  Dennis,  "  we  belong  to 
the  cause,  don't  we  ?  " 

"  The  cause  ! "  repeated  the  secretary,  looking  at  him  in  a 
sort  of  abstraction.     "  There  is  no  cause.     The  cause  is  lost." 

"  Lost ! " 

"  Oh,  yes.  You  have  heard,  I  suppose  ?  The  petition  is 
rejected  by  a  hundred  and  ninety-two,  to  six.  It's  quite  final. 
\Ve  might  have  spared  ourselves  some  trouble.  That,  and 
my  lord's  vexation,  are  the  only  circumstances  I  regret.  I 
am  quite  satisfied  in  all  other  respects." 

As  he  said  this,  he  took  a  penknife  from  his  pocket,  and 
putting  his  hat  upon  his  knee,  began  to  busy  himself  in  ripping 
off  the  blue  cockade  which  he  had  worn  all  day ;  at  the  same 
time  humming  a  psalm  tune  which  had  been  very  popular  in 
the  morning,  and  dwelling  on  it  with  a  gentle  regret. 

His  two  adherents  looked  at  each  other,  and  at  him,  as  if 
they  were  at  a  loss  how  to  pursue  the  subject.  At  length 
Hugh,  after  some  elbowing  and  winking  between  himself  and 
Mr.  Dennis,  ventured  to  stay  his  hand,  and  to  ask  him  why 
he  meddled  with  that  ribbon  in  his  hat. 

"Because,"  said  the  secretary,  looking  up  with  something 
between  a  snarl  and  a  smile,  "  because  to  sit  still  and  wear  it, 
or  fall  asleep  and  wear  it,  or  run  away  and  wear  it,  is  a 
mockery.     That's  all,  friend." 

"  What  would  you  have  us  do,  master  ! "  cried  Hugh. 

"Nothing,"  returned  Gashford,  shrugging  his  shoulders; 
"  nothing.  When  my  lord  was  reproached  and  threatened  for 
standing  by  you,  I,  as  a  prudent  man,  would  liave  had  you 
do  notliing.  When  the  soldiers  were  trampling  you  under 
their  horses'  feet,  I  would  have  had  you  do  notliing.  When 
one  of  them  was  struck  down  by  a  daring  hand,  and  I  saw 
confusion  and  dismay  in  all  their  faces,  I  would  liave  had  you 
do  nothing — just  what  you  did,  in  short.     This  is  the  young 


436  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

man  who  had  so  little  prudence  and  so  much  boldness.  Ah ! 
I  am  sorry  for  him." 

"''  Sorry,  master  ! ''  cried  Hugh. 

"  Sorry,  Muster  Gashford  ! "  echoed  Dennis. 

'•'In  case  there  should  be  a  proclamation  out  to-morrow, 
offering  five  hundred  pounds,  or  some  such  trifle,  for  his 
apprehension  ;  and  in  case  it  should  include  another  man  who 
dropped  into  the  lobby  from  the  stairs  above,"  said  Gashford, 
coldly  ;  '•'  still,  do  nothing." 

'^  Fire  and  fury,  master ! "  cried  Hugh,  starting  up. 
"What  have  we  done  that  you  should  talk  to  us  like  this !  " 

"  Nothing,"  returned  Gashford  with  a  sneer.  '•  If  you  are 
cast  into  prison ;  if  the  young  man "  —  here  he  looked  hard 
at  Barnaby's  attentive  face  —  "is  dragged  from  us  and  from 
his  friends  ;  perhaps  from  people  Avhom  he  loves,  and  whom 
his  death  would  kill ;  is  thrown  into  jail,  brought  out  and 
hanged  before  their  eyes  ;  still,  do  nothing.  You'll  find  it 
your  best  policy,  I  have  no  doubt." 

"  Come  on ! "  cried  Hugh,  stfiding  towards  the  door. 
"  Dennis  —  Barnaby  —  come  on  !  " 

"  Where  ?  To  do  Avhat  ? "  said  Gashford,  slipping  past 
him,  and  standing  with  his  back  against  it. 

"  Anywhere  !  Anything  I  "  cried  Hugh.  "'  Stand  aside, 
master,  or  the  window  will  serve  our  turn  as  well.  Let  us 
out ! " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  You  are  of  such  —  of  such  an  impetuous 
nature,"  said  Gashford,  changing  his  manner  for  one  of  the 
utmost  good-fellowship  and  the  pleasantest  railler}^ ;  "  you  are 
such- an  excitable  creature  —  but  you'll  drink  with  me  before 
you  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  —  certainly,"  growled  Deniiis,  drawing  his  sleeve 
across  his  thirsty  lips.  "No  malice,  brother.  Drink  with 
Muster  Gashford  ! " 

Hugh  wiped  his  heated  brow,  and  relaxed  into  a  smile. 
The  artful  secretary  laughed  outright. 

"  Some  liquor  here  !  Be  quick,  or  he'll  not  stop,  even  for 
that.  He  is  a  man  of  such  desperate  ardor  I "  said  the 
smooth  secretar}^,  whom  iNIr.  Dennis  corroborated  with  sundry 
nods  and  muttered  oaths  —  "  Once  roused,  he  is  a  fellow  of 
such  fierce  determination  !  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  437 

Hugh  poised  his  sturdy  arm  aloft,  and  clapping  Barnaby 
on  the  back,  bade  hirn  fear  nothing.  They  shook  hands 
together  —  poor  Barnaby  evidently  possessed  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  among  the  most  virtuous  and  disinterested  heroes 
in  the  world  —  and  Gashf ord  laughed  again. 

''  I  hear,"  he  said  smoothl}^,  as  he  stood  among  them  with 
a  great  measure  of  liquor  in  his  hand,  and  filled  their  glasses 
as  quickly  and  as  often  as  they  chose,  "  I  hear  —  but  I  cannot 
say  whether  it  be  true  or  false — that  the  men  who  are 
loitering  in  the  streets  to-night  are  half  disposed  to  pull  down 
a  Komish  chapel  or  two,  and  that  they  only  want  leaders.  I 
even  heard  mention  of  those  in  Duke  Street,  Lincoln's-Inn 
Fields,  and  in  Warwick  Street,  Golden  Square ;  but  common 
report,  you  know  —  You  are  not  going  ?  " 

"  —  To  do  nothing,  master,  eh?"  cried  Hugh.  "Xo  jails 
and  halter  for  Barnaby  and  me.  They  must  be  frightened 
out  of  that.     Leaders  are  wanted,  are  they  ?     Xow,  boys  ! " 

"  A  most  impetuous  fellow !  "  cried  the  secretary.  "  Ha, 
ha!  A  courageous,  boisterous,  most  vehement  fellow!  A 
man  who  "  — 

There  was  no  need  to  finish  the  sentence,  for  they  had 
rushed  out  of  the  house,  and  were  far  beyond  hearing.  He 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  laugh,  listened,  drew  on  his  gloves, 
and,  clasping  his  hands  behind  him,  paced  the  deserted  room 
for  a  long  time,  then  bent  his  steps  towards  the  busy  town, 
and  walked  into  the  streets. 

They  were  filled  with  people,  for  the  rumor  of  that  day's 
proceedings  had  made  a  great  noise.  Those  persons  who  did 
not  care  to  leave  home,  were  at  their  doors  or  windows,  and 
one  topic  of  discourse  prevailed  on  every  side.  Some  reported 
that  the  riots  were  effectually  put  down ;  others  that  they  had 
broken  out  again :  some  said  that  Lord  George  Gordon  had 
been  sent  under  a  strong  guard  to  the  Tower ;  others,  that  an 
attempt  had  been  made  upon  the  King's  life,  that  the  soldiers 
had  been  again  called  out,  and  that  the  noise  of  musketry  in 
a  distant  part  of  the  town  had  been  plainly  heard  within  an 
hour.  As  it  grew  darker,  these  stories  became  more  direful 
and  mysterious  ;  and  often,  when  some  frightened  ])assenger 
ran  past  with  tidings  tliat  the  rioters  were  not  far  off,  and 


438  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

were  coming  up,  the  doors  were  shut  and  barred,  lower 
windows  made  secure,  and  as  much  consternation  engendered 
as  if  the  city  were  invaded  by  a  foreign  army. 

Gashford  walked  stealthily  about,  listening  to  all  he  heard, 
and  diffusing  or  confirming,  whenever  he  had  an  opportunity, 
such  false  intelligence  as  suited  his  own  purpose  ;  and,  busily 
occupied  in  this  way,  turned  into  Holborn  for  the  twentieth 
time,  Avhen  a  great  many  women  and  children  came  flying 
along  the  street  —  often  panting  and  looking  back  —  and  the 
confused  murmur  of  numerous  voices  struck  upon  his  ear. 
Assured  by  these  tokens,  and  by  the  red  light  which  began  to 
flash  upon  the  houses  on  either  side,  that  some  of  his  friends 
were  indeed  approaching,  he  begged  a  moment's  shelter  at  a 
door  which  opened  as  he  passed,  and  running  with  some 
other  persons  to  an  upper  window,  looked  out  upon  the 
crowd. 

They  had  torches  among  them,  and  the  chief  faces  were 
distinctly  visible.  That  they  had  been  engaged  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  some  building  was  sufficiently  apparent,  and  that  it 
was  a  Catholic  place  of  worship  was  evident  from  the  spoils 
they  bore  as  trophies,  which  were  easily  recognizable  for  the 
vestments  of  priests,  and  rich  fragments  of  altar  furniture. 
Covered  with  soot,  and  dirt,  and  dust,  and  lime ;  their 
garments  torn  to  rags;  their  hair  hanging  wildly  about  them; 
their  hands  and  faces  jagged  and  bleeding  with  the  wounds  of 
rusty  nails ;  Barnaby,  Hugh,  and  Dennis  hurried  on  before 
them  all,  like  hideous  madmen.  After  them,  the  dense 
throng  came  fighting  on;  some  singing;  some  shouting  in 
triumph;  some  quarrelling  among  themselves  ;  some  menacing 
the  spectators  as  they  passed ;  some  with  great  wooden 
fragments,  on  which  they  spent  their  rage  as  if  they  had  been 
alive,  rending  them  limb  from  limb,  and  hurling  the  scattered 
morsels  high  into  the  air ;  some  in  a  drunken  state,  uncon- 
scious of  the  hurts  they  had  received  from  falling  bricks,  and 
stones,  and  beams;  one  borne  upon  a  shutter,  in  the  very 
midst,  covered  with  a  dingy  cloth,  a  senseless,  ghastly  heap. 
Thus  —  a  vision  of  coarse  faces,  with  here  and  there  a  blot  of 
flaring  smoky  light ;  a  dream  of  demon  heads  and  savage 
eyes,  and  sticks  and  iron  bars  uplifted  in  the  air,  and  whirled 


BAENABT   BUDGE.  439 

about ;  a  bewildering  horror,  in  which  so  much  was  seen, 
and  yet  so  little,  which  seemed  so  long  and  yet  so  short,  in 
which  there  were  so  many  phantoms,  not  to  be  forgotten  all 
through  life,  and  yet  so  many  things  that  could  not  be 
observed  in  one  distracting  glimpse  —  it  flitted  onward  and 
was  gone. 

As  it  passed  away  upon  its  work  of  wrath  and  ruin,  a 
piercing  scream  was  heard.  A  knot  of  persons  ran  towards 
the  spot ;  Gashford,  who  just  then  emerged  into  the  street, 
among  them.  He  was  on  the  outskirts  of  the  little  concourse, 
and  could  not  see  or  hear  what  passed  within  ;  but  one  who 
had  a  better  place,  informed  him  that  a  widow  woman  had 
descried  her  son  among  the  rioters. 

"Is  that  all?"  said  the  secretary,  turning  his  face 
homewards.  "  Well !  I  think  this  looks  a  little  more  like 
business  !  " 


440  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER    LI. 

Promising  as  these  outrages  were  to  Gashforcl's  view,  and 
much  like  business  as  they  looked,  they  extended  that  night 
no  farther.  The  soldiers  were  again  called  out,  again  they 
took  half  a  dozen  prisoners,  and  again  the  crowd  dispersed 
after  a  short  and  bloodless  scuffle.  Hot  and  drunken  though 
they  were,  they  had  not  yet  broken  all  bounds  and  set  all  law 
and  government  at  defiance.  Something  of  their  habitual 
deference  to  the  authority  erected  by  society  for  its  own 
preservation  yet  remained  among  them,  and  had  its  majesty 
been  vindicated  in  time,  the  secretary  would  have  had  to 
digest  a  bitter  disappointment. 

By  midnight,  the  streets  were  clear  and  quiet,  and,  save 
that  there  stood  in  two  parts  of  the  town,  a  heap  of  nodding 
walls  and  pile  of  rubbish,  where  there  had  been  at  sunset  a 
rich  and  handsome  building,  everything  wore  its  usual  aspect. 
Even  the  Catholic  gentry  and  tradesmen,  of  whom  there  were 
many,  resident  in  different  parts  of  the  City  and  its  suburbs, 
had  no  fear  for  their  lives  or  property,  and  but  little  indig- 
nation for  the  wrong  they  had  already  sustained  in  the 
plunder  and  destruction  of  their  temples  of  worship.  An 
honest  confidence  in  the  government  under  whose  protection 
they  had  lived  for  many  years,  and  a  well-founded  reliance  on 
the  good  feeling  and  right  thinking  of  the  great  mass  of 
the  community,  Avith  whom,  notwithstanding  their  religious 
differences,  they  were  every  day  in  habits  of  confidential 
affectionate,  and  friendly  intercourse,  reassured  them,  even 
under  the  excesses  that  had  been  committed ;  and  convinced 
them  that  they  who  were  Protestants  in  anything  but  the 
name,  were  no  more  to  be  considered  as  abetters  of  these 
disgraceful  occurrences,  than  they  themselves  were  chargeable 
with  the  uses  of  the  block,  the  rack,  the  gibbet,  and  the  stake, 
in  cruel  Mary's  reign. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  4Ai 

The  clock  was  on  the  stroke  of  one,  when  Gabriel  Varden 
with  his  lady  and  Miss  Miggs,  sat  waiting  in  the  little  parlor. 
This  fact;  the  toppling  wicks  of  the  dull,  wasted  candles;  the 
silence  that  prevailed  ;  and  above  all  the  nightcaps  of  both 
maid  and  matron,  were  sufficient  evidence  that  they  had  been 
prepared  for  bed  some  time  ago,  and  had  some  strong  reason 
for  sitting  up  so  far  beyond  their  usual  hour. 

If  any  other  corroborative  testimony  had  been  required,  it 
would  have  been  abundantly  furnished  in  the  actions  of  Miss 
Miggs,  who,  having  arrived  at  that  restless  state  and  sensitive 
condition  of  the  nervous  system  which  are  the  result  of  long 
watching,  did,  by  a  constant  rubbing  and  tweaking  of  her 
nose,  a  perpetual  change  of  position  (arising  from  the  sudden 
growth  of  imaginary  knots  and  knobs  in  her  chair),  a  frequent 
friction  of  her  eyebrows,  the  incessant  recurrence  of  a  small 
cough,  a  small  groan,  a  gasp,  a  sigh,  a  sniff,  a  spasmodic 
start,  and  by  other  demonstrations  of  that  nature,  so  file  down 
and  rasp,  as  it  were,  the  patience  of  the  locksmith,  that  after 
looking  at  her  in  silence  for  some  time,  he  at  last  broke  out 
into  this  apostrophe,  — 

"  Miggs,  my  good  girl,  go  to  bed  —  do  go  to  bed.  You're 
really  worse  than  the  dripping  of  a  hundred  water-buts 
outside  the  window,  or  the  scratching  of  as  many  mice  behind 
the  wainscot.  I  can't  bear  it.  Do  go  to  bed,  .Miggs.  To 
oblige  me  —  do." 

"  You  haven't  got  nothing  to  untie,  sir,"  returned  Miss 
Miggs,  "  and  therefore  your  requests  does  not  surprise  me. 
But  Missis  has  —  and  while  you  set  up,  mini  "  —  she  added, 
turning  to  the  locksmith's  wife,  "I  couldn't,  no  not  if 
twenty  times  the  quantity  of  cold  water  was  aperiently 
running  down  my  back  at  this  moment,  go  to  ])ed  witli  a 
quiet  spirit. 

Having  spoken  these  words,  Miss  Miggs  made  divers  efforts 
to  rub  her  shoulders  in  an  impossible  place,  and  shivered 
from  head  to  foot;  thereby  giving  the  behoklers  to  understand 
that  the  imaginary  cascade  was  still  in  full  flow,  but  tliat  a 
sense  of  duty  upheld  her  under  that,  and  all  other  sufferings, 
and  nerved  her  to  endurance. 

Mrs.  Varden   being  too  sleo})y   to   speak,  and  .Miss  .Miggs 


442  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

having,  as  the  phrase  is,  said  her  say,  the  locksmith  had 
nothing  for  it  but  to  sigh  and  be  as  quiet  as  he  could. 

But  to  be  quiet  with  such  a  basilisk  before  him,  was 
impossible.  ^  If  he  looked  another  way,  it  was  worse  to  feel 
that  she  was  rubbing  her  cheek,  or  twitching  her  ear,  or 
winking  her  eye,  or  making  all  kinds  of  extraordinary  shapes 
with  her  nose,  than  to  see  her  do  it.  If  she  was  for  a  moment 
free  from  any  of  these  complaints,  it  was  only  because  of  her 
foot  being  asleep,  or  of  her  arm  having  got  the  fidgets,  or  of 
her  leg  being  doubled  up  with  the  cramp,  or  of  some  other 
horrible  disorder  which  racked  her  whole  frame.  If  she  did 
enjoy  a  moment's  ease,  then  with  her  eyes  shut  and  her  mouth 
wide  open,  she  would  be  seen  to  sit  very  stiff  and  upright  in 
her  chair ;  then  to  nod  a  little  way  forward,  and  stop  with 
a  jerk;  then  to  nod  a  little  farther  forward,  and  stop  with 
another  jerk ;  then  to  recover  herself  ;  then  to  come  forward 
again  —  lower, —  lower  —  lower  —  by  very  slow  degrees  until 
just  as  it  seemed  impossible  that  she  could  preserve  her 
balance  for  another  instant,  and  the  locksmith  was  about  to 
call  out  in  an  agony  to  save  her  from  dashing  down  upon  her 
forehead  and  fracturing  her  skull,  then  all  of  a  sudden  and 
without  the  smallest  notice,  she  w^ould  come  upright  and  rigid 
again  with  her  eyes  open,  and  in  her  countenance  an  expression 
of  defiance,  sleepy  but  yet  most  obstinate,  which  plainly  said 
"  I've  never  once  closed  '  em  since  I  looked  at  you  last,  and 
I'll  take  my  oath  of  it !  " 

At  length,  after  the  clock  had  struck  two,  there  was  a 
sound  at  the  street  door,  as  if  somebody  had  fallen  against 
the  knocker  by  accident.  Miss  Miggs  immediately  jumping 
up  and  clapping  her  hands,  cried  with  a  drowsy  mingling  of 
the  sacred  and  profane,  "  Ally  Looyer,  mim  !  there's 
Simmuns's  knock ! " 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  said  Gabriel. 

"  Me ! "  cried  the  well-known  voice  of  Mr.  Tappertit. 
Gabriel  opened  the  door,  and  gave  him  admission. 

He  did  not  cut  a  very  insinuating  figure  ;  for  a  man  of 
his  stature  suffers  in  a  crowd ;  and  having  been  active  in 
yesterday  morning's  work,  his  dress  was  literally  crushed 
from  head  to  foot ;  his  hat  being  beaten  out  of  all  shape,  and 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  443 

his  shoes  trodden  down  at  heel  like  slippers.  His  coat 
fluttered  in  strips  about  him,  the  buckles  Avere  torn  away 
both  from  his  knees  and  feet,  half  his  neckerchief  was  gone, 
and  the  bosom  of  his  shirt  was  rent  to  tatters.  Yet  notwith- 
standing all  these  personal  disadvantages ;  despite  his  being 
very  weak  from  heat  and  fatigue  ;  and  so  begrimed  with  mud 
and  dust  that  he  might  have  been  in  a  ca^e,  for  anything  of 
the  real  texture  (either  of  his  skin  or  apparel)  that  the  eye 
could  discern ;  he  stalked  haughtily  into  the  parlor,  and 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  and  endeavoring  to  thrust  his 
hands  into  the  pockets  of  his  small  clothes,  which  were  turned 
inside  out  and  displayed  upon  his  legs,  like  tassels,  surveyed 
the  household  with  a  gloomy  dignity. 

"  Simon,"  said  the  locksmith  gravely,  "  How  comes  it  that 
you  return  home  at  this  time  of  night,  and  in  this  condition  ? 
Give  me  an  assurance  that  you  have  not  been  among  the 
rioters,  and  I  am  satisfied." 

*^Sir,"  replied  ^Ir.  Tappertit,  with  a  contemptuous  look, 
"I  wonder  at  your  assurance  in  making  such  demands." 

"You  have  been  drinking,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"As  a  general  principle,  and  in  the  most  offensive  sense  of 
the  words,  sir,"  returned  his  journeyman  with  great  self- 
possession,  "1  consider  you  a  liar.  In  that  last  observation 
you  have  unintentionally  —  unintentionally,  sir  —  struck  upon 
the  truth." 

"Martha,"  said  the  locksmith,  turning  to  his  wife,  and 
shaking  his  head  sorrowfully,  while  a  smile  at  the  absurd 
figure  before  him  still  played  upon  his  open  face,  "  I  trust  it 
may  turn  out  that  this  poor  lad  is  not  the  victim  of  the  knaves 
and  fools  we  have  so  often  had  words  about,  and  who  have 
done  so  much  harm  to-day.  If  lie  lias  been  at  Warwick  Street 
or  Duke  Street  to-niglit"  — 

"He  has  been  at  neither,  sir,"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit  in  a 
loud  voice,  which  he  suddenly  dropped  into  a  wliisper  as  he 
repeated,  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  locksmith,  "he  lias  been 
at  neither." 

"I  am  glad  of  it,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  the  locksmith  in 
a  serious  tone  ;  "  for  if  he  had  been,  and  it  could  b«'  ])n)ved 
against  him,  Martha,  your  Great  Association  would  have  Ikm'm 


444  BARNABT  liUDGE. 

to  him  the  cart  that  draws  men  to  the  gallows  and  leaves 
them  hanging  in  the  air.     It  would,  as  sure  as  we're  alive !  " 

Mrs.  Varden  was  too  mucli  scared  by  Simon's  altered  manner 
and  appearance,  and  by  the  accounts  of  the  rioters  which  had 
reached  her  ears  that  night,  to  offer  any  retort,  or  to  have 
recourse  to  her  usual  matrimonial  policy.  Miss  Miggs  wrung 
her  hands,  and  wept. 

"He  was  not  at  Duke  Street  or  at  Warwick  Street,  G. 
Varden,"  said  Simon,  sternl}^ :  "  but  he  ^cas  at  Westminster. 
Perhaps,  sir,  he  kicked  a  county  member,  perhaps,  sir,  he 
tapped  a  lord  —  you  may  stare,  sir  I  repeat  it  —  blood  flowed 
from  noses,  and  perhaps  he  tapped  a  lord.  Who  knows  ? 
This,"  he  added,  putting  his  hand  into  his  waistcoat  pocket, 
and  taking  out  a  large  tooth,  at  the  sight  of  which  both 
Miggs  and  Mrs.  Varden  screamed,  "this  was  a  bishop's. 
Beware,  G.  Varden  !  " 

"Now,  I  would  rather,"  said  the  locksmith  hastily,  "have 
paid  live  hundred  pounds,  than  had  this  come  to  pass.  You 
idiot,  do  you  know  what  peril  you  stand  in  ?  " 

"I  know  it,  sir,"  replied  his  journeyman,  "'and  it  is  my 
glory.  I  was  there,  everybody  saw  me  there.  I  was  con- 
spicuous, and  prominent.     I  will  abide  the  consequences." 

The  locksmith,  really  disturbed  and  agitated,  paced  to  and 
fro  in  silence  —  glancing  at  his  former  'prentice  every  now  and 
then  —  and  at  length  stopping  before  him,  said,  — 

"  Get  to  bed,  and  sleep  for  a  couple  of  hours  that  you  may 
wake  penitent,  and  with  some  of  your  senses  about  you.  Be 
sorry  for  what  you  have  done,  and  we  will  try  to  save  you. 
If  I  call  him  by  live  o'clock,"  said  Varden,  turning  hurriedly 
to  his  wife,  "and  he  washes  himself  clean  and  changes  his 
dress,  he  may  get  to  the  Tower  Stairs,  and  away  by  the 
Gravesend  tide-boat,  before  any  search  is  made  for  him. 
From  there  he  can  easily  get  on  to  Canterbury,  where  your 
cousin  will  give  him  work  till  this  storm  has  blown  over.  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  do  right  in  screening  him  from  the  punish- 
ment he  deserves,  but  he  has  lived  in  this  house,  man  and  boy, 
for  a  dozen  years,  and  I  should  be  sorry  if  for  this  one  day's 
work  he  made  a  miserable  end.  Lock  the  front  door,  Miggs, 
and  show  no  light  towards  the  street  when  you  go  up-stairs. 
Quick,  Simon  !     Get  to  bed  !  " 


BARN  A  BY  BUDGE.  445 

"And  do  jou  suppose,  sir/'  retorted  Mr.  Tappertit,  with  a 
thickness  and  slowness  of  speech  which  contrasted  forcibly 
with  the  rapidity  and  earnestness  of  his  kind-hearted  master 
—  "  and  do  you  suppose,  sir,  that  I  am  base  and  mean  enough 
to  accept  your  servile  proposition  ?  —  ^Miscreant !  " 

"Whatever  you  please,  Sim,  but  get  to  bed.  Every  minute 
is  of  consequence.     The  light  here,  Miggs  !  " 

"  Yes  yes,  oh  do !  Go  to  bed  directly,"  cried  the  two 
women  together.' 

Mr.  Tappertit  stood  upon  his  feet,  and  pushing  his  chair 
away  to  show  that  lie  needed  no  assistance,  answered,  swaying 
himself  to  an  fro,  and  managing  his  head  as  if  it  had  no 
connection  Avhatever  with  his  body  :  — 

"You  spoke  of  Miggs,  sir  —  Miggs  may  be  smothered!"    * 

"  Oh  Simmun ! "  ejaculated  that  young  lady  in  a  faint 
voice.  "  Oh  mini !  Oh  sir !  Oh  goodness  gracious,  what  a 
turn  he  has  give  me  !  " 

"This  family  may  all  be  smothered,  sir,"  returned  ^Ir. 
Tappertit,  after  glancing  at  her  with  a  smile  of  ineffable 
disdain,  "excepting  Mrs.  V.  1  have  come  here,  sir,  for  her 
sake,  this  night.  Mrs.  Varden,  take  this  piece  of  paper.  It's 
a  protection,  ma'am.     You  may  need  it." 

With  these  words  he  held  out  at  arm's  length,  a  dirty, 
crumpled  scrap  of  writing.  The  locksmith  took  it  from  him, 
opened  it,  and  read  as  follows :  — 

All  good  friends  to  our  cause,  I  hope  will  be  particular,  and  do  no 
injury  to  the  property  of  any  true  Protestant.  I  am  well  assured  that 
the  proprietor  of  this  house  is  a  stanch  and  worthy  friend  to  the  cause. 

George  G ok don. 

"  What's  this  ?  "  said  the  locksmith,  with  an  altered  face. 

"  Something  that'll  do  you  good  service,  young  feller," 
replied  his  journeyman,  "as  you'll  hud.  Keep  that  safe, 
and  where  you  can  lay  your  hand  upon  it  in  an  instant. 
And  chalk  'No  Popery  '  on  your  door  to-morrow  night,  and 
for  a  week  to  come  —  that's  all." 

"This  is  a  genuine  document,"  said  the  locksmith,  "I 
know,  for  I  have  seen  the  hand  before.  What  threat  does  it 
im])ly  ?     What  devil  is  abroad  '.'  " 


446  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

"A  fiery  devil,"  retorted  Sim;  "a  flaming  furious  devil. 
Don't  you  put  yourself  in  its  way,  or  you're  done  for,  my 
buck.     Be  warned  in  time,  G.  Yarden.     Farewell !  " 

But  here  the  two  women  threw  themselves  in  his  way  — 
especially  ]\Iiss  Miggs,  who  fell  upon  him  with  such  fervor 
that  she  pinned  him  against  the  wall — and  conjured  him  in 
moving  words  not  to  go  forth  till  he  was  sober ;  to  listen  to 
reason ;  to  think  of  it ;  to  take  some  rest,  and  then  determine. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  "  that  my  mind  is  made 
up.  My  bleeding  country  calls  me  and  I  go !  Miggs,  if  you 
don't  get  out  of  the  way,  I'll  pinch  you." 

Miss  Miggs,  still  clinging  to  the  rebel,  screamed  once 
vociferously  —  but  whether  in  the  distraction  of  her  mind,  or 
because  of  his  having  executed  his  threat,  is  uncertain. 

'•  Kelease  me,"  said  Simon,  struggling  to  free  himself  from 
her  chaste,  but  spider-like  embrace.  "  Let  me  go  !  I  have 
made  arrangements  for  you  in  an  altered  state  of  society,  and 
mean  to  provide  for  j^ou  comfortably  in  life  —  there  !  Will 
that  satisfy  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  Simmum ! "  cried  Miss  Miggs.  ''  Oh  my  blessed 
Simmun  !  Oh  mini !  what  are  my  feelings  at  this  conflicting 
moment ! " 

Of  a  rather  turbulent  description,  it  would  seem  ;  for  her 
nightcap  had  been  knocked  off  in  the  scuffle,  and  she  was  on 
her  knees  npon  the  floor,  making  a  strange  revelation  of  blue 
and  yellow  curl-papers,  straggling  locks  of  hair,  tags  of 
staylaces,  and  strings  of  it's  impossible  to  say  what ;  panting 
for  breath,  clasping  her  hands,  turning  her  eyes  upwards, 
shedding  abundance  of  tears,  and  exhibiting  various  other 
symptoms  of  the  actutest  mental  suffering. 

"Heave,"  said  Simon,  turning  to  his  master,  with  an  utter 
disregard  of  Miggs's  maidenly  affliction,  "a  box  of  things  up- 
stairs. Do  what  you  like  with  'em.  /don't  want  'em.  I'm 
never  coming  back  here,  any  more.  Provide  yourself,  sir, 
with  a  journeyman ;  I'm  my  country's  journeyman ;  hence- 
forward that's  my  line  of  business." 

"  Be  what  you  like  in  two  hours'  time,  but  now  go  up  to 
bed,"  returned  the  locksmith,  planting  himself  in  the  doorway. 
"  Do  you  hear  me  ?     Go  to  bed  !  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  447 

"I  hear  you,  and  defy  you,  Varden,"  rejoined  Simon 
Tappertit.  '-Tliis  night,  sir,  I  have  been  in  the  country, 
planning  an  expedition  which  shall  fill  your  bell-hanging  soul 
with  wonder  and  dismay.  The  plot  demands  iny  utmost 
energy.     Let  me  pass  !  " 

"  I'll  knock  you  down  if  you  come  near  the  door,*'  replied 
the  locksmith.     '•'  You  had  better  go  to  bed  ! " 

Simon  made  no  answer,  but  gathering  himself  up  as 
straight  as  he  could,  plunged  head  foremost  at  his  old  master, 
and  the  two  went  driving  out  into  the  workshop  together, 
plying  their  hands  and  feet  so  briskly  that  they  looked  like 
half  a  dozen,  while  Miggs  and  Mrs.  Varden  screamed  for 
twelve. 

It  would  have  been  easy  for  Yarden  to  knock  his  old 
'prentice  down,  and  bind  him  hand  and  foot ;  but  as  he  was 
loath  to  hurt  him  in  his  then  defenceless  state,  he  contented 
himself  with  parrying  his  blows  when  he  could,  taking  them 
in  perfect  good  part  when  he  could  not,  and  keei)ing  between 
him  and  the  door,  until  a  favorable  opportunity  should  present 
itself  for  forcing  him  to  retreat  up-stairs,  and  shutting  him 
up  in  his  own  room.  But,  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  he 
calculated  too  much  upon  his  adversary's  weakness,  and  forgot 
that  drunken  men  who  have  lost  the  power  of  walking 
steadily,  can  often  run.  Watching  his  time,  Simon  Tappertit 
made  a  cunning  show  of  falling  back,  staggered  unexpectedly 
forward,  brushed  past  him,  opened  the  door  (he  knew  the 
trick  of  that  lock  well),  and  darted  down  the  street  like  a 
mad  dog.  The  locksmith  paused  for  a  moment  in  the  excess 
of  his  astonishment,  and  then  gave  chase. 

It  was  an  excellent  season  for  a  run,  for  at  that  silent  liour 
the  streets  were  deserted,  the  air  was  cool,  and  the  Hying 
figure  before  him  distinctly  visible  at  a  great  distance,  as  it 
sped  away,  witli  a  long  gaunt  shadow  following  at  its  heels. 
But  the  sliort-winded  locksmith  had  no  chance  against  a  man 
of  Sim's  youth  and  spare  figure,  tliough  the  day  had  been 
when  he  (jould  have  run  liim  down  in  no  time.  The  si)ace 
between  them  rapidly  increased,  and  as  the  rays  of  the  rising 
sun  streamed  upon  Simon  in  the  act  of  turning  a  distant 
corner,  Gabriel  Yarden  was  fain  to  give  up,  and  sit  down  0:1 


448  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

a  door-step  to  fetch  his  breath.  Simon  meanwhile,  without 
once  stopping,  fled  at  the  same  degree  of  swiftness  to  The 
Boot,  where,  as  he  well  knew,  some  of  his  company  were 
lying,  and  at  which  respectable  hostelry  —  for  he  had  already 
acquired  the  distinction  of  being  in  great  peril  of  the  law  —  a 
friendly  watch  liad  been  expecting  him  all  night,  and  was 
even  now  on  the  lookout  for  his  coming. 

"  Go  thy  ways,  Sim,  go  thy  ways,"  said  the  locksmith,  as 
soon  as  he  could  speak.  "  I  have  done  my  best  for  thee,  poor 
lad,  and  would  have  saved  thee,  but  the  rope  is  round  thy 
neck,  I  fear." 

So  saying,  and  shaking  his  head  in  a  very  sorrowful  and 
disconsolate  manner,  he  turned  back,  and  soon  re-entered  his 
own  house,  where  Mrs.  Varden  and  the  faithful  Miggs  had 
been  anxiously  expecting  his  return. 

Now  Mrs.  Varden  (and  by  consequence  Miss  Miggs  like- 
wise) was  impressed  with  a  secret  misgiving  that  she  had 
done  wrong ;  that  she  had,  to  the  utmost  of  her  small  means, 
aided  and  abetted  the  growth  of  disturbances,  the  end  of  which 
it  was  impossible  to  foresee ;  that  she  had  led  remotely  to  the 
scene  which  had  just  passed ;  and  that  the  locksmith's  time 
for  triumph  and  reproach  had  now  arrived  indeed.  And  so 
strongly  did  Mrs.  Varden  feel  this,  and  so  crestfallen  was  she 
in  consequence,  that  while  her  husband  was  pursuing  their 
lost  journeyman,  she  secreted  under  her  chair  the  little  red- 
brick dwelling-house  with  the  yellow  roof,  lest  it  should  fur- 
nish new  occasion  for  reference  to  the  painful  theme;  and 
now  hid  the  same  still  more,  with  the  skirts  of  her  dress. 

But  it  happened  that  the  locksmith  had  been  thinking  of 
this  very  article  on  his  way  home,  and  that,  coming  into  the 
room  and  not  seeing  it,  he  at  once  demanded  where  it  was. 

Mrs.  Varden  had  no  resource  but  to  produce  it,  which  she 
did  with  many  tears,  and  broken  protestations  that  if  she 
could  have  known  — 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Varden,  "  of  course  —  I  know  that.  I 
don't  mean  to  reproach  you,  my  dear.  But  recollect  from 
this  time  that  all  good  things  perverted  to  evil  purposes,  are 
worse  than  those  which  are  naturally  bad.  A  thoroughly 
wicked  woman  is  wicked  indeed.     When  reli<:ion  groes  wrong, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  449 

she  is  very  wrong,  for  tlie  same  reason.  Let  us  say  no  more 
about  it,  my  dear/' 

So  he  dropped  the  red-brick  dwelling-house  on  the  floor, 
and  setting  his  heel  upon  it,  crushed  it  into  pieces.  The 
halfpence,  and  sixpences,  and  other  voluntary  contributions, 
rolled  about  in  all  directions,  but  nobody  offered  to  touch 
them  or  to  take  them  up. 

"  That,"  said  the  locksmith,  "  is  easily  disposed  of,  and  I 
would  to  Heaven  that  everything  growing  out  of  the  same 
society  could  be  settled  as  easily." 

"  It  happens  very  fortunately,  Varden,"  said  his  wife  with 
her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  ''  that  in  case  any  more  dis- 
turbances should  happen  —  which  I  hope  not ;  I  sincerely 
hope  not "  — 

"  I  hope  so  too,  my  dear." 

"  —  That  in  case  any  should  occur,  we  have  the  piece  of 
paper  which  that  poor  misguided  young  man  brought." 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure,''  said  the  locksmith,  turning  quickly  round, 
"  Where  is  that  piece  of  paper  ?  " 

Mrs.  Varden  stood  aghast  as  he  took  it  from  her  out- 
stretched hand,  tore  it  into  fragments,  and  threw  them  under 
the  grate. 

"  Not  use  it  ?  "  she  said. 

"Use  it!"  cried  the  locksmith.  ^' Xo !  Let  them  come 
and  pull  the  roof  about  our  ears ;  let  them  burn  us  out  of 
house  and  home  ;  I'd  neither  have  the  protection  of  their 
leader,  nor  chalk  their  howl  upon  my  door,  though,  for  not 
doing  it,  they  shot  me  on  my  own  threshold.  Use  it !  Let 
them  come  and  do  their  worst.  The  tirst  man  who  crosses 
my  door-step  on  such  an  errand  as  theirs,  had  better  be  a 
hundred  miles  away.  Let  him  look  to  it.  The  others  may 
have  their  will.  I  wouldn't  beg  or  buy  them  off,  if,  instead 
of  every  pound  of  iron  in  the  place,  there  was  a  hundred 
weight  of  gold.  Get  you  to  bed,  Martha.  I  sliall  take  down 
the  shutters  and  go  to  work." 

"  So  early  !  "  said  his  wife. 

"Ay,"  replied  the  locksmith,  clieerily,  "so  early.  Come 
when  they  may,  they  shall  not  find  us  skulking  and  hiding 
as  if  we  feared  to  take  our  portion  of  the  light  of  day,  and 

VOL.  I. 


450  BARNABT  EUJDGE. 

left  it  all  to  them.     So  pleasant  dreams  to  you,  mj  dear,  and 
cheerful  sleep  !  " 

With  that  he  gave  his  wife  a  hearty  kiss,  and  bade  her 
delay  no- longer,  or  it  would  be  time  to  rise  before  she  lay 
down  to  rest.  Mrs.  Varden  quite  amiably  and  meekly  walked 
up-stairs,  followed  by  Miggs,  who,  although  a  good  deal  sub- 
dued, could  not  refrain  from  sundry  stimulative  coughs  and 
sniffs  by  the  way,  or  from  holding  up  her  hands  in  astonish- 
ment at  the  daring  conduct  of  master. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  451 


CHAPTER   LIT. 

A  MOB  is  usually  a  creature  of  very  mysterious  existence, 
particularly  in  a  large  city.  Where  it  comes  from  or  whither 
it  goes,  few  men  can  tell.  Assembling  and  dispersing  with 
equal  suddenness,  it  is  as  difficult  to  follow  to  its  various 
sources  as  the  sea  itself ;  nor  does  the  parallel  stop  here,  for 
the  ocean  is  not  more  fickle  and  uncertain,  more  terrible  when 
roused,  more  unreasonable,  or  more  cruel. 

The  people  who  were  boisterous  at  Westminster  upon  the 
Friday  morning,  and  were  eagerly  bent  upon  the  work  of 
devastation  in  Duke  Street  and  Warwick  Street  at  night,  were, 
in  the  mass,  the  same.  Allowing  for  the  chance  accessions  of 
which  any  crowd  is  morally  sure  in  a  town  where  there  must 
always  be  a  large  number  of  idle  and  profligate  persons,  one 
and  the  same  mob  was  at  both  places.  Yet  they  spread 
themselves  in  various  directions  when  they  dispersed  in  the 
afternoon,  made  no  appointment  for  re-assembling,  had  no 
definite  purpose  or  design,  and  indeed,  for  anything  they 
knew,  were  scattered  beyond  the  hope  of  future  union. 

At  The  Boot,  which,  as  has  been  shown,  was  in  a  manner 
the  headquarters  of  the  rioters,  there  were  not,  upon  this 
Friday  night,  a  dozen  people.  Some  slept  in  the  stable  and 
outhouses,  some  in  the  common  room,  some  two  or  three  in 
beds.  The  rest  were  in  their  usual  homes  or  haunts.  Perhaps 
not  a  score  in  all  lay  in  the  adjacent  fields  and  lanes,  and 
under  haystacks,  or  near  the  warmth  of  brick-kilns,  who  had 
not  their  accustomed  place  of  rest  beneath  tlie  open  sky.  As 
to  the  public  ways  within  the  town,  they  had  their  ordinary 
nightl}^  occupants,  and  no  others ;  tlie  usual  amount  of  vice 
and  wretchedness,  ])ut  no  more. 

The  experience  of  one  evening,  however,  liad  tauglit  the 
reckless  leaders  of   disturbance,  that  they  liad  but  to  sliow 


452  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

themselves  in  the  streets,  to  be  immediately  surrounded  by- 
materials  which  they  could  only  have  kept  together  when  their 
aid  was  not  required,  at  great  risk,  expense  and  trouble. 
Once  possessed  of  this  secret,  they  were  as  confident  as  if 
twenty  thousand  men,  devoted  to  their  will,  liad  been  encamped 
about  them,  and  assumed  a  confidence  which  could  not  have 
been  surpassed,  though  that  had  really  been  the  case.  All  day 
Saturday  they  remained  quiet.  On  Sunday  they  rather  studied 
how  to  keep  their  men  within  call,  and  in  full  hope,  than  to  fol- 
low out,  by  any  very  fierce  measure,  their  first  day's  proceedings. 

" I  hope,-'  said  Dennis,  as,  with  a  loud  yawn,  he  raised  his 
body  from  a  heap  of  straw  on  which  he  had  been  sleeping, 
and  supporting  liis  head  upon  his  hand,  appealing  to  Hugh  on 
Sunday  morning,  "  that  Muster  Gashford  allows  some  rest  ? 
Perhaps  he'd  have  us  at  work  again  already,  eh  ?  " 

''  It's  not  his  way  to  let  matters  drop,  you  may  be  sure  of 
that,"  growled  Hugh  in  answer.  "I'm  in  no  humor  to  stir 
yet,  though.  I'm  as  stiff  as  a  dead  body,  and  as  full  of  ugly 
scratches  as  if  I  had  been  fighting  all  day  yesterday  with  wild 
cats." 

"You've  so  much  enthusiasm,  that's  it,"  said  Dennis, 
looking  with  great  admiration  at  the  uncombed  head,  matted 
beard,  and  torn  hands  and  face  of  the  wild  figure  before  him  ; 
"  you're  such  a  devil  of  a  fellow.  You  hurt  yourself  a  hundred 
times  more  than  you  need,  because  3'ou  will  be  foremost  in 
everything,  and  will  do  more  than  the  rest." 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,"  returned  Hugh,  shaking  back  his 
ragged  hair  and  glancing  towards  the  door  of  the  stable  in 
which  they  lay  ;  "  there's  one  yonder  as  good  as  me.  What 
did  I  tell  you  about  him  ?  Did  I  say  he  was  worth  a  dozen, 
when  you  doubted  him  ?  " 

Mr.  Dennis  rolled  lazily  over  upon  his  breast,  and  resting 
his  chin  upon  his  hand  in  imitation  of  the  attitude  in  which 
Hugh  la}',  said,  as  he,  too,  looked  towards  the  door,  — 

"Ay,  ay,  you  knew  him  brother,  you  knew  him.  But  who'd 
suppose  to  look  at  that  chap  now,  that  he  could  be  the  man  he 
is  !  Isn't  it  a  thousand  cruel  pities,  brother,  that  instead  of 
taking  his  nat'ral  rest  and  qualifying  himself  for  further  exer- 
tions in  this  here  /lonorable  cause,  he  should  be  playing  at 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  453 

soldiers  like  a  boy  ?  And  his  cleanliness  too  ! "  said  Mr. 
Dennis,  who  certainly  had  no  reason  to  entertain  a  fellow- 
feeling  with  anybody  who  was  particular  on  that  score  ;  "what 
weaknesses  he's  guilty  of,  with  respect  to  his  cleanliness  !  At 
five  o'clock  this  morning,  there  he  was  at  the  pump,  though 
any  one  would  think  he  had  gone  through  enough,  the  day 
before  yesterday,  to  be  pretty  fast  asleep  at  that  time.  But 
no  —  when  I  woke  for  a  minute  or  two,  there  he  was  at  the 
pump,  and  if  you'd  have  seen  him  sticking  them  peacock's 
feathers  into  his  hat  when  he'd  done  washing  —  ah  !  I'm  sorry 
he's  such  a  imperfect  character,  but  the  best  on  us  is  incom- 
plete in  some  pint  of  view  or  another." 

The  subject  of  this  dialogue  and  of  these  concluding  remarks, 
which  were  uttered  in  a  tone  of  philosophical  meditation,  was, 
as  the  reader  will  have  divined,  no  other  than  Barnaby,  who, 
with  his  flag  in  his  hand,  stood  sentry  in  the  little  patch  of 
sunlight  at  the  distant  door,  or  walked  to  and  fro  outside, 
singing  softly  to  himself,  and  keeping  time  to  the  music  of 
some  clear  church-bells.  Whether  he  stood  still,  leaning  with 
both  hands  on  the  flag-staff,  or,  bearing  it  upon  his  shoulder, 
paced  slowly  up  and  down,  the  careful  arrangement  of  his 
poor  dress,  and  his  erect  and  lofty  bearing,  showed  how  high 
a  sense  he  had  of  the  great  importance  of  his  trust,  and  how 
happy  and  how  proud  it  made  him.  To  Hugh  and  his  com- 
panion, who  lay  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  gloomy  shed,  he,  and 
the  sunlight,  and  the  peaceful  Sabbath  sound  to  which  he 
made  response,  seemed  like  a  bright  picture  framed  by  the 
door,  and  set  off  by  the  stable's  blackness.  The  whole  formed 
such  a  contrast  to  themselves,  as  they  lay  wallowing,  like  some 
obscene  animals,  in  their  squalor  and  wickedness  on  the  two 
heaps  of  straw,  that  for  a  few  moments  the}'  looked  on  without 
speaking,  and  felt  almost  ashamed. 

'•Ah  !"  said  Hugh  at  length,  carrying  it  off  with  a  laugh  : 
"He's  a  rare  fellow  is  Barnaby,  and  can  do  more,  with  less 
rest,  or  meat,  or  drink,  than  any  of  us.  As  to  his  soldiering, 
/put  him  on  duty  there." 

"Then  there  was  a  object  in  it,  and  a  projter  good  one  too. 
I'll  be  sworn,"  retorted  Dennis  witli  a  broad  grin,  and  an  (»:ith 
of  the  same  quality.     "  Wluit  was  it,  brotlicr  ?" 


454  BAHyABY  BUDGE. 

"Why,  you  see,"  said  Hugh,  crawling  a  little  nearer  to  him,, 
"that  our  noble  captain  3'onder,  caine  in  yesterday  morning 
rather  the  worse  for  liquor,  and  was  —  like  you  and  me  — 
ditto  last  night." 

Dennis  looked  to  where  Simon  Tappertit  lay  coiled  upon  a 
truss  of  hay,  snoring  profoundly",  and  nodded. 

"And  our  noble  captain,"  continued  Hugh  with  another 
laugh,  "our  noble  captain  and  I  have  planned  for  to-morrow 
a  roaring  expedition,  with  good  profit  in  it." 

"  Again,  the  papists  ?  "  asked  Dennis,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"Ay,  against  the  papists  —  against  one  of  'em  at  least,  that 
some  of  us,  and  I  for  one,  owe  a  good  heavy  grudge  to." 

"Not  IMuster  Gashford's  friend  that  he  spoke  to  us  about  in 
my  house,  eh  ?  "  said  Dennis,  brimful  of  pleasant  expectation. 

"The  same  man,"  said  Hugh. 

"  That's  your  sort,"  cried  Mr.  Dennis,  gayly  shaking  hands 
with  him,  "  that's  the  kind  of  game.  Let's  have  revenges  and 
injuries,  and  all  that,  and  we  shall  get  on  twice  as  fast.  IS'ow 
you  talk,  indeed  ! " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  The  captain,"  added  Hugh,  "'  has  thoughts  of 
carrying  off  a  woman  in  the  bustle,  and  —  ha,  ha,  ha  !  —  and 
so  have  I ! " 

Mr.  Dennis  received  this  part  of  the  scheme  with  a  wry  face, 
observing  that  as  a  general  principle  he  objected  to  women 
altogether,  as  being  unsafe  and  slippery  persons,  on  whom 
there  was  no  calculating  with  any  certainty,  and  who  were 
never  in  the  same  mind  for  four  and  twenty  hours  at  a  stretch. 
He  might  have  expatiated  on  this  suggestive  theme  at  much 
greater  length,  but  that  it  occurred  to  him  to  ask  what  con- 
nection existed  between  the  proposed  expedition  and  Barnaby's 
being  posted  at  the  stable  door  as  sentry  ;  to  which  Hugh  cau- 
tiously replied  in  these  words,  — 

"Wh}"^,  the  people  we  mean  to  visit,  were  friends  of  his, 
once  upon  a  time,  and  I  know  that  much  of  him  to  feel  pretty 
sure  that  if  he  thought  we  were  going  to  do  them  any  harm, 
he'd  be  no  friend  to  our  side,  but  would  lend  a  ready  hand  to 
the  other.  So  I've  persuaded  him  (for  I  know  him  of  old) 
that  Lord  George  has  picked  him  out  to  guard  this  place  to- 
morrow while  we're  away,  and  that  it's  a  great  honor  —  and 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  45o 

so  he's  on  duty  now,  and  as  proud  of  it  as  if  he  was  a  general. 
Ha,  ha  !  What  do  you  say  to  nie  for  a  careful  man  as  well  as 
a  d^vil  of  a  one  ?  " 

Mr.  Dennis  exhausted  himself  in  compliments,  and  then 
added,  — 

'•'But  about  the  expedition  itself"  — 

'•About  that,"  said  Hugh,  '"you  shall  hear  all  particulars 
from  me  and  the  great  captain  conjointly  and  both  together  — 
for  see,  he's  waking  up.  Rouse  yourself,  lion-heart.  Ha,  ha ! 
Put  a  good  face  upon  it,  and  drink  again.  Another  hair  of  the 
dog  that  bit  you,  captain  !  Call  for  drink  !  There's  enough 
of  gold  and  silver  cups  and  candlesticks  buried  underneath  my 
bed,"  he  added,  rolling  back  the  straw,  and  pointing  to  where 
the  ground  was  newly  turned,  "  to  pay  for  it,  if  it  was  a  score 
of  casks  full.     Drink,  captain  !  " 

Mr.  Tappertit  received  these  jovial  promptings  with  a  very 
bad  grace,  being  much  the  worse,  both  in  mind  and  body,  for 
his' two  nights  of  debauch,  and  but  indifferently  able  to  stand 
upon  his  legs.  With  Hugh's  assistance,  however,  he  contrived 
to  stagger  to  the  pump  ;  and  having  refreshed  himself  with  an 
abundant  draught  of  cold  water,  and  a  copious  shower  of  the 
same  refreshing  liquid  on  his  head  and  face,  he  ordered  some 
rum  and  milk  to  be  served  ;  and  upon  that  innocent  beverage 
and  some  biscuits  and  cheese  made  a  pretty  hearty  meal.  That 
done,  he  disposed  himself  in  an  easy  attitude  on  the  ground 
beside  his  two  companions  (who  were  carousing  after  their 
own  tastes),  and  proceeded  to  enlighten  Mr.  Dennis  in  refer- 
ence to  to-morrow's  project. 

That  their  conversation  was  an  interesting  one,  was  rendered 
manifest  by  its  length,  and  by  the  close  attention  of  all  three. 
That  it  was  not  of  an  oppressively  grave  character,  but  was 
enlivened  by  various  pleasantries  arising  out  of  the  subject, 
was  clear  from  their  loud  and  frequent  roars  of  laughter,  which 
startled  Barnaby  on  his  post,  and  made  him  wonder  at  their 
levity.  But  he  was  not  summoned  to  join  them,  until  they 
had  eaten,  and  drunk,  and  slept,  and  talked  togetlier  for  some 
hours  ;  not,  indeed,  until  the  twilight ;  when  they  informed 
him  that  they  were  about  to  make  a  slight  demonstration  in 
the  streets  —  just  to  kec})  the  people's  hands   in,  i's   it  w.is 


456  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

Sunday  night,  and  the  public  might  otherwise  be  disappointed 
—  and  that  he  was  free  to  accompany  them  if  he  would. 

Without  the  slightest  preparation,  saving  that  they  carried 
clubs  and  wore  the  blue  cockade,  they  sallied  out  into  the 
streets  ;  and,  with  no  more  settled  design  than  that  of  doing 
as  much  mischief  as  they  could,  paraded  them  at  random. 
Their  numbers  rapidly  increasing,  they  soon  divided  into 
parties  ;  and  agreeing  to  meet  by  and  by,  in  the  fields  near 
Welbeck  Street,  scoured  the  town  in  various  directions.  The 
largest  bod}',  and  that  which  augmented  with  the  greatest 
rapidity,  was  the  one  to  which  Hugh  and  Barnaby  belonged. 
This  took  its  way  towards  Moorfields,  where  there  was  a  rich 
chapel,  and  in  which  neighborhood  several  Catholic  families 
were  known  to  reside. 

Beginning  with  the  private  houses  so  occupied,  they  broke 
open  the  doors  and  windows ;  and  while  they  destroyed  the 
furniture  and  left  but  the  bare  walls,  made  a  sharp  search  for 
tools  and  engines  of  destruction,  such  as  hammers,  pokers, 
axes,  saws,  and  such  like  instruments.  Many  of  the  rioters 
made  belts  of  cord,  of  handkerchiefs,  or  any  material  they 
found  at  hand,  and  wore  these  weapons  as  openly  as  pioneers 
upon  a  field-day.  There  was  not  the  least  disguise  or  con- 
cealment —  indeed,  on  this  night,  very  little  excitement  or 
hurry.  From  the  chapels,  they  tore  down  and  took  away  the 
very  altars,  benches,  pulpits,  pews,  and  flooring ;  from  the 
dwelling-houses,  the  very  wainscoting  and  stairs.  This  Sun- 
day evening's  recreation  they  pursued  like  mere  workmen 
who  had  a  certain  task  to  do,  and  did  it.  Fifty  resolute  men 
might  have  turned  them  at  any  moment ;  a  single  company 
of  soldiers  could  have  scattered  them  like  dust ;  but  no  man 
interposed,  no  authority  restrained  them,  and,  except  by  the 
terrified  persons  who  fled  from  their  approach,  they  were  as 
little  heeded  as  if  they  were  pursuing  their  lawful  occupa- 
tions with  the  utmost  sobriety  and  good  conduct. 

In  the  same  manner  they  marched  to  the  place  of  rendez- 
vous agreed  upon,  made  great  fires  in  the  fields,  and  reserving 
the  most  valuable  of  their  spoils,  burned  the  rest.  Priestly 
garments,  images  of  saints,  rich  stuffs  and  ornaments,  altar- 
furniture  and  household  goods,  were  cast  into  the  flames,  and 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  457 

shed  a  glare  on  the  whole  country  round  ;  but  they  danced, 
and  howled,  and  roared  about  tliese  fires  till  they  were  tired, 
and  were  never  for  an  instant  checked. 

As  the  main  body  filed  off  from  this  scene  of  action,  and 
passed  down  Welbeck  Street  they  came  upon  Gashford,  who 
had  been  a  witness  of  their  proceedings,  and  was  walking 
stealthily  along  the  pavement.  Keeping  up  with  liim,  and 
yet  not  seeming  to  speak,  Hugh  muttered  in  his  ear,  — 

"  Is  this  better,  master  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Gashford.     "  It  is  not." 

"  What  would  you  have  ?  "  said  Hugh.  "  Fevers  are  never 
at  their  height  at  once.     They  must  go  on  by  degrees." 

"  I  would  have  you,"  said  Gashford,  pinching  his  arm  with 
such  malevolence  that  his  nails  seemed  to  meet  in  the  skin  : 
"  I  would  have  you  put  some  meaning  into  your  work.  Fools  ! 
Can  you  make  no  better  bonfires  than  of  rags  and  scraps  ? 
Can  you  burn  nothing  whole  ?  " 

"  A  little  patience,  master,"  said  Hugh.  "  Wait  a  but  few 
hours,  and  you  shall  see.  Look  for  a  redness  in  the  sky  to- 
morrow night." 

With  that,  he  fell  back  into  his  place  beside  Barnaby ;  and 
when  the  secretary  looked  after  him,  both  were  lost  iu  the 
crowd. 


458  BARNABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   LIII. 

The  next  clay  was  ushered  in  by  merry  peals  of  bells,  and 
by  the  firing  of  the  Tower  guns ;  flags  were  hoisted  on  many 
of  the  church-steeples  ;  the  usual  demonstrations  were  made, 
in  honor  of  the  anniversary  of  the  King's  birthday  ;  and 
every  man  went  about  his  pleasure  or  business,  as  if  the  city 
were  in  perfect  order,  and  there  were  no  half-smouldering 
embers  in  its  secret  places  which  on  the  approach  of  night 
would  kindle  up  again,  and  scatter  ruin  and  dismay  abroad. 
The  leaders  of  the  riot,  rendered  still  more  daring  by  the 
success  of  last  night  and  by  the  booty  they  had  acquired,  kept 
steadily  together,  and  only  thought  of  imj)licating  the  mass  of 
their  followers  so  deeply  that  no  hope  of  pardon  or  reward 
might  tempt  them  to  betray  their  more  notorious  confederates 
into  the  hands  of  justice. 

Indeed,  the  sense  of  having  gone  too  far  to  be  forgiven, 
held  the  timid  together  no  less  than  the  bold.  Many,  who 
would  readily  have  pointed  out  the  foremost  rioters  and  given 
evidence  against  them,  felt  that  escape  by  that  means  was 
hopeless,  when  their  every  act  had  been  observed  by  scores  of 
people  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  disturbances ;  who  had 
suffered  in  their  persons,  peace,  or  property,  by  the  outrages 
of  the  mob  ;  who  would  be  most  willing  witnesses  ;  and  whom 
the  government  would,  no  doubt,  prefer  to  any  King's  evidence 
that  might  be  offered.  Many  of  this  class  had  deserted  their 
usual  occupations  on  the  Saturday  morning ;  some,  had  been 
seen  by  their  employers,  active  in  the  tumult ;  others,  knew 
they  must  he  suspected,  and  that  they  would  be  discharged  if 
they  returned ;  others,  had  been  desperate  from  the  beginning^ 
and  comforted  themselves  with  the  homely  proverb,  that,  being 
hanged  at  all,  they  might  as  well  be  hanged  for  a  sheep  as  a 
lamb.      They  all  hoped   and  believed,  in  a  greater   or  less 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  459 

degree,  that  the  government  they  seemed  to  have  paralyzed, 
would,  in  its  terror,  come  to  terms  with  them  in  the  end,  and 
suffer  them  to  make  their  own  conditions.  The  least  sanguine 
among  them  reasoned  with  himself  that,  at  the  worst,  they 
were  too  many  to  be  all  punished,  and  that  he  had  as  f^ood  a 
chance  of  escape  as  any  other  man.  The  great  mass  never 
reasoned  or  thought  at  all,  but  were  stimulated  by  their  own 
headlong  passions,  by  poverty,  by  ignorance,  by  the  love  of 
mischief,  and  the  hope  of  plunder. 

One  other  circumstance  is  worthy  of  remark  ;  and  that  is 
that  from  the  moment  of  their  first  outbreak  at  ^^'estminster 
every  symptom  of  order  or  preconcerted  arrangement  among 
them,  vanished.  When  they  divided  into  parties  and  ran  to 
different  quarters  of  the  town,  it  was  on  the  spontaneous 
suggestion  of  the  moment.  Each  party  swelled  as  it  went 
along,  like  rivers  as  they  roll  towards  the  sea ;  new  leaders 
sprang  up  as  they  were  wanted,  disappeared  when  the  neces- 
sity Avas  over,  and  reappeared  at  the  next  crisis.  Each  tumult 
took  shape  and  form,  from  the  circumstances  of  the  moment ; 
sober  workmen  going  home  from  their  day's  labor,  were  seen 
to  cast  down  their  baskets  of  tools  and  become  rioters  in  an 
instant;  mere  boys  on  errands  did  the  like.  In  a  word,  a 
moral  plague  ran  through  the  city.  The  noise,  and  hurry, 
and  excitement,  had  for  hundreds  and  hundreds  an  attraction 
they  had  no  firmness  to  resist.  The  contagion  spread,  like  a 
dread  fever :  an  infectious  madness,  as  yet  not  near  its  height, 
seized  on  new  victims  every  hour,  and  society  began  to  tremble 
at  their  ravings. 

It  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when 
Gashford  looked  into  the  lair  described  in  the  last  chaptt'r, 
and  seeing  only  Barnaby  and  Dennis  there,  inquired  for 
Hugh. 

He  was  out,  Barnaby  told  him  ;  had  gone  out  more  than  an 
hour  ago ;  and  had  not  yet  returned. 

"Dennis!"  said  the  smiling  secretary,  in  his  snu)otliest 
voice,  as  he  sat  down  cross-legged  on  a  barivl,  '•  Dennis  !  " 

The  hangman  struggled  into  a  sitting  posture  directly,  and 
with  his  eyes  wide  o])en,  looked  towards  liim. 

"How  do  you  do,  ])('nnis?  "  said   (iasliford,  noddiiij:^.     "1 


460  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

hope  you  have  suffered  no  inconvenience  from  jour  late  exer- 
tions, Dennis  ?  " 

"  I  always  will  say  of  you  Cluster  Gashford,"  returned  the 
hangman,  staring  at  him,  '•  that  that  'ere  quiet  way  of  yours 
might  almost  wake  a  dead  man.  It  is,"  he  added  with  a 
muttered  oath  —  still  staring  at  him  in  a  thoughtful  manner 
—  "  so  awful  sly  ! " 

"  So  distinct,  eh  Dennis  ?  " 

"Distinct!"  he  answered,  scratching  his  head,  and  keeping 
his  eyes  upon  the  secretary's  face ;  "  I  seem  to  hear  it.  Muster 
Gashford,  in  my  wery  bones." 

"1  am  very  glad  your  sense  of  hearing  is  so  sharp,  and 
that  I  succeed  in  making  myself  so  intelligible,"  said  Gash- 
ford, in  his  unvarying,  even  tone.     "  Where  is  your  friend  ?  " 

j\[r.  Dennis  looked  round  as  in  expectation  'of  beholding 
him  asleep  upon  his  bed  of  straw  ;  then  remembering  that  he 
had  seen  him  go  out,  replied,  — 

"  I  can't  say  where  he  is,  Muster  Gashford,  I  expected  him 
back  afore  now.  I  hope  it  isn't  time  that  we  was  busy, 
Muster  Gashford  ?  " 

"'  Nay,"  said  the  secretary,  "  who  should  know  that  as  well 
as  you  ?  How  can  I  tell  you,  Dennis  ?  You  are  perfect 
master  of  your  own  actions,  you  knoAV,  and  accountable  to 
nobody  — except  sometimes  to  the  law,  eh  ?  " 

Dennis,  who  was  very  much  baffled  by  the  cool  matter-of- 
course  manner  of  this  reply,  recovered  his  self-possession  on 
his  professional  pursuits  being  referred  to,  and  pointing 
towards  Barnaby,  shook  his  head  and  frowned. 

"  Hush  !  "  cried  Barnaby. 

"  Ah  !  Do  hush  about  that.  Muster  Gashford,"  said  the 
hangman  in  a  low  voice,  "pop'lar  prejudices  —  you  always 
forget  —  well,  Barnaby,  my  lad,  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

"I  hear  him  coming,"  he  answered:  "Hark!  Do  you 
mark  that  ?  That's  his  foot !  Bless  you,  I  know  his  step, 
and  his  dog's  too.  Tramp,  tramp,  pit-pat,  on  they  come 
together,  and,  ha,  ha,  ha !  —  and  here  they  are ! "  he  cried 
joyfully,  welcoming  Hugh  with  both  hands,  and  then  patting 
him  fondly  on  the  back,  as  if  instead  of  being  the  rough  com- 
panion he  was,  he  had  been  one  of  the  most  prepossessing  of 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  461 

men.     '•  Here  lie  is,  and  safe  tuo  !     I  am  glad  to  see  liim  back 
again,  old  Hugh  !  " 

"I'm  a  Turk  if  he  don't  give  me  a  warmer  welcome  always 
than  any  man  of  sense,"  said  Hugh,  shaking  hands  with  him 
with  a  kind  of  ferocious  friendship,  strange  enough  to  see. 
"  How  are  you,  boy  ?  " 

"  Hearty  !  "  cried  Barnaby,  waving  his  hat.  "  Ha  ha  ha ! 
And  merry  too,  Hugh  !  And  ready  to  do  anything  for  the 
good  cause,  and  the  right,  and  to  help  the  kind,  mild,  pale- 
faced  gentleman  —  the  lord  they  used  so  ill  —  eh,  Hugh  ?  " 

"  Ay  ! "  returned  his  friend,  dropping  his  hand,  and  looking 
at  Gashford  for  an  instant  with  a  changed  expression  before 
he  spoke  to  him.     "  Good-day,  master  !  " 

"  And  good-day  to  you,"  replied  the  secretary,  nursing  his 
leg.  "  And  many  good  days  —  whole  years  of  them,  I  hope. 
You  are  heated." 

"So  would  you  have  been,  master,"  said  Hugh,  wiping  his 
face,  "  if  you'd  been  running  here  as  fast  as  I  have." 

"  You  know  the  news,  then  ?  Yes,  I  supposed  you  would 
have  heard  it." 

"  JSTews  !  what  news  !  " 

"  You  don't  ?  "  cried  Gashford,  raising  his  eyebrows  with 
an  exclamation  of  surprise.  "  Dear  me !  Come ;  then  I  am 
the  first  to  make  you  acquainted  with  your  distinguished 
position  after  all.  Do  you  see  the  King's  Arms  a-top  ?  "  lie 
smilingly  asked,  as  he  took  a  large  paper  from  his  pocket, 
unfolded  it,  and  held  it  out  for  Hugh's  inspection. 

"  Well !  "  said  Hugh.     "  What's  that  to  me  ?  " 

"Much.     A  great  deal,"  replied  the  secretary.     "  Read  it." 

"  I  told  you,  the  first  time  I  saw  you,  that  I  couldn't  read," 
said  Hugh,  impatiently.  "  What  in  the  Devil's  name's  inside 
of  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  proclamation  from  the  King  in  Council,''  said 
Gashford,  "  dated  to-day,  and  offering  a  reward  of  five  hun- 
dred pounds  —  five  hundred  pounds  is  a  great  deal  of  money, 
and  a  large  temptation  to  some  people — to  any  one  wlio  will 
discover  the  person  or  persons  most  active  in  demolishing 
those  chapels  on  Saturday  niglit." 

"Is  that  all  ? "  cried  Hugli,  with  an  indifferent  air.  "I 
knew  of  that." 


462  BARNABT  BUDGE. 

"  Truly  I  might  have  known  you  did,"  said  Gashford,  smil- 
ing and  folding  up  the  document  again.  "Your  friend,  I 
might  have  guessed  —  indeed  I  did  guess  —  was  sure  to  tell 
you." 

"  My  friend  ! "  stammered  Hugh,  with  an  unsuccessful  effort 
to  appear  surprised.     "  What  friend  ?  " 

"  Tut  tut  —  do  you  suppose  I  don't  know  where  you  have 
been  ? "  retorted  Gashford,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  beating 
the  back  of  one  on  the  palm  of  the  other,  and  looking  at  him 
with  a  cunning  eye.  "How  dull  you  think  me  !  Shall  I  say 
his  name  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Hugh,  with  a  hasty  glance  towards  Dennis. 

"You  have  also  heard  from  him,  no  doubt,"  resumed  the 
secretary,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "'  that  the  rioters  who  have 
been  taken  (poor  fellows)  are  committed  for  trial,  and  that 
some  very  active  witnesses  have  had  the  temerity  to  appear 
against  them.  Among  others"  —  and  here  he  clinched  his 
teeth,  as  if  he  would  suppress,  by  force,  some  violent  words 
that  rose  upon  his  tongue ;  and  spoke  very  slowly.  "  Among 
others,  a  gentleman  who  saw  the  work  going  on  in  Warwick 
Street ;  a  Catholic  gentleman  ;  one  Haredale." 

Hugh  would  have  prevented  his  uttering  the  word,  but  it 
was  out  already.  Hearing  the  name,  Barnaby  turned  swiftly 
round. 

"  Duty,  duty,  bold  Barnaby ! "  cried  Hugh,  assuming  his 
wildest  and  most  rapid  manner,  and  thrusting  into  his  hand 
his  staff  and  flag  which  leaned  against  the  wall.  "Mount 
guard  without  loss  of  time,  for  we  are  off  upon  our  expedition. 
Up,  Dennis,  and  get  ready !  Take  care  that  no  one  turns  the 
straw  upon  my  bed,  brave  Barnaby ;  we  know  what's  under- 
neath it  —  eh  ?  Now,  master,  quick  !  What  you  have  to  say, 
say  speedily,  for  the  little  captain  and  a  cluster  of  'em  are  in 
the  fields,  and  only  waiting  for  us.  Sharp's  the  Avord,  and 
strike's  the  action.     Quick  !  " 

Barnaby  was  not  proof  against  this  bustle  and  despatch. 
The  look  of  mingled  astonishment  and  anger  which  had 
appeared  in  liis  face  when  he  turned  towards  them,  faded  from 
it  as  the  words  passed  from  his  memory,  like  breath  from  a 
polished  mirror ;  and  grasping  the  weapon  which  Hugh  forced 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  4G3 

upon  him,  he  proudly  took  his  station  at  the  door,  beyond 
their  hearing. 

"You  might  have  spoiled  our  plans,  master,"  said  Hugh. 
"  You,  too,  of  all  men ! " 

"  Who  would  have  supposed  that  he  would  be  so  quick  ?  " 
urged  Gashford. 

"  He's  as  quick  sometimes  —  I  don't  mean  with  his  hands, 
for  that  you  know,  but  with  his  head  —  as  you,  or  any  man," 
said  Hugh.  "  Dennis,  it's  time  we  were  going ;  they're  wait- 
ing for  us ;  I  came  to  tell  you.  Reach  me  my  stick  and  belt. 
Here!  Lend  a  hand,  master.  Fling  this  over  my  shoulder, 
and  buckle  it  behind,  will  you  ?  " 

"Brisk  as  ever!"  said  the  secretary,  adjusting  it  for  him 
as  he  desired. 

"A  man  need  be  brisk  to-day;  there's  brisk  work  afoot." 

"  There  is,  is  there  ? "  said  Gashford.  He  said  it  with 
such  a  provoking  assumption  of  ignorance,  that  Hugh,  looking 
over  his  slioulder  and  angrily  down  upon  him,  replied,  — 

"  Is  there  !  You  know  there  is !  Who  knows  better  than 
you,  master,  that  the  first  great  step  to  be  taken  is  to  make 
examples  of  these  witnesses,  and  frighten  all  men  from  appear- 
ing against  us  or  any  of  our  body,  any  more  ?  " 

"There's  one  we  know  of,"  returned  Gashford,  with  an 
expressive  smile,  "  who  is  at  least  as  well  informed  upon  that 
subject  as  you  or  I." 

"  If  we  mean  the  same  gentleman,  as  I  suppose  we  do," 
Hugh  rejoined  softly,  "  I  tell  you  this  —  he's  as  good  and 
quick  information  about  everything  as "  —  here  he  paused 
and  looked  round,  as  if  to  make  quite  sure  that  the  person  in 
question  was  not  within  hearing  — "  as  Old  Nick  himself. 
Have  you  done  that,  master  ?     How  slow  you  are  !  " 

"It's  quite  fast  now,"  said  Gashford,  rising.  "I  say  — 
you  didn't  find  that  your  friend  disapproved  of  to-day's  little 
expedition?  Ha  ha  ha!  It  is  fortunate  it  jumps  so  well 
with  the  witness's  policy  ;  for  once  planned,  it  must  liave  been 
carried  out.     And  now  you  are  going,  eh  ?  " 

"Xow  we  are  going,  master!"  Hugh  replied.  -Any  part- 
ing words  ?  " 

"  Oh  dear,  no,"  said  ( Jasliford  sweetly.     "  None  !  " 


464  BAByABY  BUDGE. 

"  You're  sure  ?  "  cried  Hugh,  nudging  the  grinning  Dennis. 

"  Quite  sure,  eh,  Muster  Gashford  ?  "  chuckled  the  hangman. 

Gash  ford  paused  a  moment,  struggling  with  his  caution 
and  his  malice  ;  then  putting  himself  between  the  two  men, 
and  laying  a  hand  upon  the  arm  of  each,  said,  in  a  cramped 
whisper,  — 

"  Do  not,  my  good  friends  —  I  am  sure  you  will  not  — 
forget  our  talk  one  night  —  in  your  house,  .Dennis  —  about 
this  person.  Xo  mercy,  no  quarter,  no  two  beams  of  his 
house  to  be  left  standing  where  the  builder  placed  them. 
Fire,  the  saying  goes,  is  a  good  servant,  but  a  bad  master. 
Make  it  his  master;  he  deserves  no  better.  But  I  am  sure 
you  will  be  firm,  I  am  sure  you  will  be  very  resolute,  I  am 
sure  you  will  remember  that  he  thirsts  for  your  lives,  and 
those  of  all  your  brave  companions.  If  you  ever  acted  like 
stanch  fellows,  you  will  do  so  to-day.  Won't  you,  Dennis  — 
won't  you,  Hugh  ?  " 

The  two  looked  at  him,  and  at  each  other ;  then  bursting 
into  a  roar  of  laughter,  brandished  their  staves  above  their 
heads,  shook  hands,  and  hurried  out. 

AYhen  they  had  been  gone  a  little  time,  Gashford  followed. 
They  were  yet  in  sight,  and  hastening  to  that  part  of  the 
adjacent  fields  in  which  their  fellows  had  already  mustered; 
Hugh  was  looking  back,  and  flourishing  his  hat  to  Barnaby, 
who,  delighted  with  his  trust,  replied  in  the  same  manner, 
and  then  resumed  his  pacing  up  and  down  before  the  stable- 
door,  where  his  feet  had  worn  a  path  alread}'.  And  when 
Gashford  himself  was  far  distant,  and  looked  back,  for  the  last 
time,  he  was  still  walking  to  and  fro,  with  the  same  measured 
tread ;  the  most  devoted  and  the  blithest  champion  that  ever 
maintained  a  post,  and  felt  his  heart  lifted  up  with  a  brave 
sense  of  duty,  and  determination  to  defend  it  to  the  last. 

Smiling  at  the  simplicit}^  of  the  poor  idiot,  Gashford  betook 
himself  to  Welbeck  Street  by  a  different  path  from  that 
which  he  knew  the  rioters  would  take,  and  sitting  down 
behind  a  curtain  in  one  of  the  upper  windows  of  Lord 
George  Gordon's  house,  waited  impatiently  for  their  coming. 
They  were  so  long,  that  although  he  knew  it  had  been  settled 
they  should  come  that  way,  he  had  a  misgiving  they  must 


GASHFORD   WATCHING    FOR    SIGNS   OF   THE    BURNING    OF   THE    WARREN. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  465 

have  changed  their  plans  and  taken  some  other  route.  But  at 
length  the  roar  of  voices  was  heard  in  the  neighboring  fields, 
and  soon  afterwards  they  came  thronging  past,  in  a  great 
body. 

However,  they  were  not  all,  nor  nearly  all,  in  one  body, 
but  were,  as  he  soon  found,  divided  into  four  parties,  each  of 
which  stopped  before  the  house  to  give  three  cheers,  and  then 
went  on ;  the  leaders  crying  out  in  what  direction  they  were 
going,  and  calling  on  the  spectators  to  join  them.  The  first 
detachment,  carrying,  by  way  of  banners,  some  relics  of  the 
havoc  they  had  made  in  Moorfields,  proclaimed  that  they  were 
on  their  way  to  Chelsea,  whence  they  would  return  in  the 
same  order,  to  make  of  the  spoil  they  bore,  a  great  bonfire, 
near  at  hand.  The  second  gave  out  that  they  were  bound  for 
Wapping,  to  destroy  a  chapel ;  the  third,  that  their  place  of 
destination  was  East  Smithfield,  and  their  object  the  same. 
All  this  was  done  in  broad,  bright  summer  day.  Gay  car- 
riages and  chairs  stopped  to  let  them  pass,  or  turned  back 
to  avoid  them ;  people  on  foot  stood  aside  in  doorways,  or 
perhaps  knocked  and  begged  permission  to  stand  at  a  window, 
or  in  the  hall,  until  the  rioters  had  passed :  but  nobody  inter- 
fered with  them;  and  when  they  had  gone  by,  everything 
went  on  as  usual. 

There  still  remained  the  fourth  body,  and  for  that  the 
secretary  looked  with  a  most  intense  eagerness.  At  last  it 
came  up.  It  was  numerous,  and  composed  of  picked  men  ; 
for  as  he  gazed  down  among  them,  he  recognized  many 
upturned  faces  which  he  knew  well  —  those  of  Simon  Tap- 
pertit,  Hugh,  and  Dennis  in  the  front,  of  course.  Tliey 
halted  and  cheered,  as  the  others  had  done ;  but  when  they 
moved  again,  they  did  not,  like  them,  proclaim  wliat  design 
they  had.  Hugh  merely  raised  his  hat  upon  the  bludgeon  he 
carried,  and  glancing  at  a  spectator  on  tlie  opposite  side  of 
the  way,  was  gone. 

Gashford  followed  the  direction  of  his  glance  instinctively, 
and  saw,  standing  on  the  pavement,  and  wearing  the  blue 
cockade.  Sir  John  Chester.  He  held  his  hat  an  inch  or  two 
above  his  head  to  propitiate  the  mob;  ami,  resting  gracefully 
on  his  cane,  smiling  pleasantly,  and  displaying  his  dress  and 

VOL.  I. 


466  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

person  to  the  very  best  advantage,  looked  on  in  the  most 
tranquil  state  imaginable.  For  all  that,  and  quick  and  dex- 
terous as  he  was,  Gashford  had  seen  him  recognize  Hugh 
with  the  air  of  a  patron.  He  had  no  longer  any  eyes  for  the 
crowd,  but  fixed  his  keen  regards  upon  Sir  John. 

He  stood  in  the  same  place  and  posture,  until  the  last  man 
in  the  concourse  had  turned  the  corner  of  the  street ;  then 
very  deliberately  took  the  blue  cockade  out  of  his  hat;  put 
it  carefully  in  his  pocket,  ready  for  the  next  emerge;icy  ; 
refreshed  himself  with  a  pinch  of  snuff ;  put  up  his  box ;  and 
was  walking  slowly  off,  when  a  passing  carriage  stopped,  and 
a  lady's  hand  let  down  the  glass.  Sir  John's  hat  was  off 
again  immediately.  After  a  minute's  conversation  at  the 
carriage  window,  in  which  it  was  apparent  that  he  w^as  vastly 
entertaining  on  the  subject  of  the  mob,  he  stepped  lightly  in, 
and  was  driven  away. 

The  secretary  smiled,  but  he  had  other  thoughts  to  dwell 
upon,  and  soon  dismissed  the  topic.  Dinner  was  brought 
him,  but  he  sent  it  down  untasted ;  and,  in  restless  pacings 
up  and  down  the  room,  and  constant  glances  at  the  clock,  and 
many  futile  efforts  to  sit  down  and  read,  or  go  to  sleep,  or 
look  out  of  the  window^,  consumed  four  weary  hours.  When 
the  dial  told  him  thus  much  time  had  crept  away,  he  stole 
up-stairs  to  the  top  of  the  house,  and  coming  out  upon  the 
roof,  sat  dow^n,  with  his  face  towards  the  sea. 

Heedless  of  the  fresh  air  that  blew  upon  his  heated  brow^, 
of  the  pleasant  meadows  from  which  he  turned,  of  the  piles 
of  roofs  and  chimne3"s  upon  which  he  looked,  of  the  smoke 
and  rising  mist  he  vainly  sought  to  pierce,  of  the  shrill  cries 
of  children  at  their  evening  sports,  the  distant  hum  and  tur- 
moil of  the  town,  the  cheerful  country  breath  that  rustled 
past  to  meet  it,  and  to  droop,  and  die;  he  watched,  and 
watched,  till  it  was  dark  —  save  for  the  specks  of  light  that 
twinkled  in  the  streets  below  and  far  away  —  and,  as  the 
darkness  deepened,  strained  his  gaze  and  grew  more  eager 
yet. 

"Nothing  but  gloom  in  that  direction,  still!"  he  muttered 
restlessly.  "  Dog !  wiiere  is  the  redness  in  the  sky,  you 
promised  me ! " 


BAUyABY   liUDGE.  46 < 


CHAPTER   Liy. 

Rumors  of  the  prevailing  disturbances  had,  by  this  time, 
begun  to  be  pretty  generally  circulated  through  the  towns 
and  villages  round  London,  and  the  tidings  were  everywhere 
received  with  that  appetite  for  the  marvellous  and  love  of 
the  terrible  which  have  probably  been  among  the  natural 
characteristics  of  mankind  since  the  creation  of  the  world. 
These  accounts,  however,  appeared,  to  many  persons  at  that 
day  —  as  they  would  to  us  at  the  present,  but  that  we  know 
them  to  be  matter  of  history  —  so  monstrous  and  improbable, 
that  a  great  number  of  those  who  were  resident  at  a  distance, 
and  who  were  credulous  enough  on  other  points,  were  really 
unable  to  bring  their  minds  to  believe  that  such  things  could 
be ;  and  rejected  the  intelligence  they  received  on  all  hands, 
as  wholly  fabulous  and  absurd. 

Mr.  Willet  —  not  so  much,  perhaps,  on  account  of  his 
having  argued  and  settled  the  matter  with  himself,  as  by 
reason  of  his  constitutional  obstinacy  —  was  one  of  those 
who  positively  refused  to  entertain  the  current  topic  for  a 
moment.  On  this  very  evening,  and  perhaps  at  the  very 
time  when  Gashford  kept  his  solitary  watch,  old  John  was 
so  red  in  the  face  with  perpetually  shaking  his  head  in  con- 
tradiction of  his  three  ancient  cronies  and  pot  companions, 
that  he  was  quite  a  phenomenon  to  behold,  and  lighted  up  the 
Maypole  Porch  wherein  they  sat  together,  like  a  monstrous 
carbuncle  in  a  fairy  tale. 

"Do  you  think,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  looking  hard  at 
Solomon  Daisy  —  for  it  was  his  custom  in  cases  of  personal 
altercation  to  fasten  upon  the  smallest  man  in  tlie  part}'  — 
"do  you  think  sir,  that  Pm  a  born  fool  ?  " 

"No,  no,  Johnny,"  returned  Solomon,  h)oking  round 
upon    the   little   circle  of    which    he    formed    a    i»art :    "'  We 


468  nAliNABY  liULGE. 

all  know  better  than  that.  You're  no  fool,  Johnny.  No, 
no  ! " 

Mr.  Cobb  and  Mr.  Parkes  shook  their  heads  in  unison, 
muttering  "  No,  no,  Johnny,  not  you  !  "  But  as  such  compli- 
ments had  usually  the  effect  of  making  Mr.  Willet  rather 
more  dogged  than  before,  he  surveyed  them  with  a  look  of 
deep  disdain,  and  returned  for  answer,  — 

"Then  what  do  you  mean  by  coming  here,  and  telling  me 
that  this  evening  you're  a-going  to  walk  up  to  London 
together  —  you  three  —  you  —  and  have  the  evidence  of  your 
own  senses  ?  Ain't,"  said  ]Mr.  Willet,  putting  his  pipe  in  his 
mouth  with  an  air  of  solemn  disgust,  "ain"t  the  evidence  of 
7711/  senses  enough  for  you  ?  " 

"  But  we  haven't  got  it,  Johnny,"  pleaded  Parkes,  humbly. 

"You  haven't  got  it,  sir  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Willet,  eying  him 
from  top  to  toe.  "  You  haven't  got  it,  sir  ?  You  have  got  it, 
sir.  Don't  I  tell  you  that  His  blessed  Majesty  King  George 
the  Third  would  no  more  stand  a  rioting  and  rollicking  in  his 
streets,  than  he'd  stand  being  crowed  over  by  his  own 
Parliament  ?  " 

"Yes,  Johnny,  but  that's  your  sense  —  not  your  senses," 
said  the  adventurous  Mr.  Parkes. 

"  How  do  you  know,"  retorted  John  with  great  dignity. 
"  You're  a-contradictiug  pretty  free,  joii  are,  sir.  How  do 
you  know  which  it  is  ?     I'm  not  aware  I  ever  told  you,  sir." 

Mr.  Parkes,  finding  himself  in  the  position  of  having  got 
into  metaphysics  without  exactly  seeing  his  way  out  of  them, 
stammered  forth  an  apology  and  retreated  from  the  argument. 
There  then  ensued  a  silence  of  some  ten  minutes  or  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  at  the  expiration  of  which  period  Mr.  Willet  was 
observed  to  rumble  and  shake  with  laughter,  and  presently 
remarked,  in  reference  to  his  late  adversary,  "  that  he  hoped 
he  had  tackled  him  enough."  Thereupon,  Messrs.  Cobb  and 
Daisy  laughed,  and  nodded,  and  Parkes  was  looked  upon  as 
thoroughly  and  effectually  put  down. 

"  Do  you  suppose  if  all  this  was  true,  that  Mr.  Haredale 
would  be  constantly  away  from  home,  as  he  is  ?  "  said  John 
after  another  silence.  "  Do  you  think  he  wouldn't  be  afraid 
to  leave  his  house  with  them  two  young  women  in  it,  and 
only  a  couple  of  men,  or  so  ?  " 


BAItNABY  RUDGE.  469 

"  Ay,  but  then  you  know,"  returned  Solomon  Daisy,  "  his 
house  is  a  goodish  way  out  of  London,  and  they  do  say  that 
the  rioters  won't  go  more  than  two  mile,  or  three  at  farthest, 
off  the  stones.  Besides,  you  know,  some  of  the  Catholic 
gentlefolks  have  actually  sent  trinkets  and  such-like  down 
here  for  safety  —  at  least,  so  the  story  goes." 

^'  The  story  goes  !  "  said  Mr.  Willet  testily.  '•'  Yes,  sir. 
The  story  goes  that  you  saw  a  ghost  last  March.  But  nobody 
believes  it." 

"  "Well !"  said  Solomon,  rising,  to  divert  the  attention  of 
his  two  friends,  who  tittered  at  this  retort :  "  believed  or 
disbelieved,  it's  true ;  and  true  or  not,  if  we  mean  to  go  to 
London,  we  must  be  going  at  once.  So  shake  hands,  Johnny, 
and  good-night." 

"  I  shall  shake  hands,"  returned  the  landlord,  putting  his 
into  his  pockets,  "  with  no  man  as  goes  to  London  on  such 
nonsensical  errands." 

The  three  cronies  were  therefore  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
shaking  his  elbows  ;  having  performed  that  ceremony,  and 
brought  from  the  house  their  hats,  and  sticks,  and  great-coats, 
they  bade  him  good-night  and  departed;  promising  to  bring 
him  on  the  morrow  full  and  true  accounts  of  the  real  state  of 
the  city,  and  if  it  were  quiet,  to  give  him  the  full  merit  of  liis 
victory. 

John  Willet  looked  after  them,  as  they  plodded  along  the 
road  in  the  rich  glow  of  a  summer  evening  ;  and  knocking 
the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  laughed  inwardly  at  their  folly,  until 
his  sides  were  sore.  When  he  had  quite  exhausted  himself  — 
which  took  some  time,  for  he  laughed  as  slowly  as  he  thought 
and  spoke  —  he  sat  himself  comfortably  with  his  back  to  the 
house,  put  his  legs  upon  the  bench,  tiicn  his  apron  over  his 
face,  and  fell  sound  asleep. 

How  long  he  slept,  matters  not ;  but  it  was  for  no  brief 
space,  for  when  he  awoke,  the  rich  light  had  faded,  the 
sombre  hues  of  night  were  falling  fast  upon  the  landscape, 
and  a  few  bright  stars  were  already  twinkling  overhead. 
The  birds  were  all  at  roost,  the  daisies  on  the  green  liad  closed 
their  fairy  hoods,  the  honeysuckle  twining  round  tlie  porch 
exhaled  its  perfume  in  a  twofold  degree,  as  though  it  lost  its 


470  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

coyness  at  that  silent  time  and  loved  to  shed  its  fragrance  on 
the  night;  the  ivy  scarcely  stirred  its  deep  green  leaves. 
How  tranquil  and  how  beautiful  it  was  ! 

Was  there  no  sound  in  the  air,  besides  the  gentle  rustling 
of  the  trees  and  the  grasshopper's  merry  chirp  ?  Hark  ! 
Something  very  faint  and  distant,  not  unlike  the  murmuring 
in  a  sea-shell.  Now  it  grew  louder,  fainter  now,  and  now  it 
altogether  died  away.  Presently,  it  came  again,  subsided, 
came  once  more,  grew  louder,  fainter  —  swelled  into  a  roar. 
It  was  on  the  road,  and  varied  with  its  windings.  All  at  once 
it  burst  into  a  distinct  sound  —  the  voices,  and  the  tramping 
feet  of  many  men. 

It  is  questionable  whether  old  John  Willet,  even  then,  would 
have  thought  of  the  rioters,  but  for  the  cries  of  his  cook  and 
housemaid,  who  ran  screaming  up-stairs  and  locked  themselves 
into  one  of  the  old  garrets,  —  shrieking  dismally  when  they  had 
done  so,  by  way  of  rendering  their  place  of  refuge  perfectly 
secret  and  secure.  These  two  females  did  afterwards  depone 
that  Mr.  Willet  in  his  consternation  uttered  but  one  word,  and 
called  that  up  the  stairs  in  a  stentorian  voice,  six  distinct 
times.  But  as  this  word  was  a  monosyllable,  which,  however 
inoffensive  when  applied  to  the  quadruped  it  denotes,  is  highly 
reprehensible  when  used  in  connection  with  females  of  unim- 
peachable character,  many  persons  were  inclined  to  believe 
that  the  young  women  labored  under  some  hallucination 
caused  by  excessive  fear ;  and  that  their  ears  deceived  them. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  John  Willet,  in  whom  the  very  utter- 
most extent  of  dull-headed  perplexity  supplied  the  place  of 
courage,  stationed  himself  in  the  porch,  and  waited  for  their 
coming  up.  Once,  it  dimly  occurred  to  him  that  there  was  a 
kind  of  door  to  the  house,  which  had  a  lock  and  bolts  ;  and  at 
the  same  time  some  shadowy  ideas  of  shutters  to  the  lower 
windows,  flitted  through  his  brain.  But  he  stood  stock  still, 
looking  down^the  road  in  the  direction  in  which  the  noise  was 
rapidly  advancing,  and  did  not  so  much  as  take  his  hands  out 
of  his  pockets. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long.  A  dark  mass,  looming  through  a 
cloud  of  dust,  soon  became  visible  ;  the  mob  quickened  their 
pace  ;  shouting  and  whooping  like  savages,  they  came  rushing 


BARNABV  BUDGE.  471 

on  pell-mell ;  and  in  a  few  seconds  he  was  bandied  from  hand 
to  hand,  in  the  heart  of  a  crowd  of  men. 

"  Holloa !  "  cried  a  voice  he  knew,  as  the  man  who  spoke 
came  cleaving  through  the  throng.  "Where  is  he? 
Give  him  to  me.  Don't  hurt  him.  How  now,  old  Jack  ! 
Ha  ha  ha ! " 

Mr.  Willet  looked  at  him,  and  saw  it  was  Hugh  ;  but  he 
said  nothing,  and  thought  nothing. 

"  These  lads  are  thirsty  and  must  drink  ! "  cried  Hugh, 
thrusting  him  back  towards  the  house.  "Bustle,  Jack, 
bustle.  Show  us  the  best  —  the  very  best  —  the  over-proof 
that  you  keep  for  your  own  drinking,  Jack  ! " 

John  faintly  articulated  the  words,  "  Who's  to  pay  ?  " 

"  He  says  '  Who's  to  pay ! '  "  cried  Hugh  with  a  roar  of 
laughter  which  w^as  loudly  echoed  by  the  crowd.  Then  turn- 
ing to  John,  he  added,  "  Pay  !     Why,  nobody." 

John  stared  round  at  the  mass  of  faces  —  some  grinning, 
some  fierce,  some  lighted  up  by  torches,  some  indistinct,  some 
dusky  and  shadowy  :  some  looking  at  him,  some  at  his  house, 
some  at  each  other  —  and  while  he  was,  as  he  thought,  in  the 
very  act  of  doing  so,  found  himself,  without  any  consciousness 
of  having  moved,  in  the  bar ;  sitting  down  in  an  arm-chair, 
aud  watching  the  destruction  of  his  property,  as  if  it  were 
some  queer  play  or  entertainment,  of  an  astonishing  and 
stupefying  nature,  but  having  no  reference  to  himself  —  that 
he  could  make  out  —  at  all. 

Yes.  Here  was  the  bar  —  the  bar  that  the  boldest  never 
entered  without  special  invitation  —  the  sanctuary,  the  mj'stery, 
the  hallowed  ground :  here  it  was,  crammed  with  men,  clubs, 
sticks,  torches,  pistols  ;  filled  with  a  deafening  noise,  oaths, 
shouts,  screams,  hootings ;  changed  all  at  once  into  a  bear- 
garden, a  madhouse,  an  infernal  temple :  men  darting  in  and 
out,  by  door  and  window,  smasliing  tlie  glass,  turning  the 
taps,  drinking  liquor  out  of  china  punclibowls,  sitting  astride 
of  casks,  smoking  private  and  personal  pipes,  cutting  down  the 
sacred  grove  of  lemons,  hacking  and  liewing  at  the  celebrated 
cheese,  breaking  open  inviolable  drawers,  putting  things  in 
their  pockets  which  didn't  belong  to  them,  dividing  his  own 
money  before   his   own   eyes,    wantonly    wasting,    breaking, 


472  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

pulling  down  and  tearing  up  :  nothing  quiet,  nothing  private  : 
men  everywhere — above,  below,  overhead,  in  the  bedrooms, 
in  the  kitchen,  in  the  yard,  in  the  stables  —  clambering  in  at 
windows  when  there  were  doors  wide  open ;  dropping  out  of 
windows  when  the  stairs  were  hand}^;  leaping  over  the 
banisters  into  chasms  of  passages  :  new  faces  and  figures  pre- 
senting themselves  every  instant  —  some  yelling,  some  singing, 
some  fighting,  some  breaking  glass  and  crockery,  some  laying 
the  dust  with  the  liquor  they  couldn't  drink,  some  ringing  the 
bells  till  they  pulled  them  down,  others  beating  them  with 
pokers  till  they  beat  tliem  into  fragments  :  more  men  still  — 
more,  more,  more  —  swarming  on  like  insects  :  noise,  smoke, 
light,  darkness,  frolic,  anger,  laughter,  groans,  plunder,  fear, 
and  rain  ! 

Nearly  all  the  time  while  John  looked  on  at  this  bewil- 
dering scene,  Hugh  kept  near  him  ;  and  though  he  was  the 
loudest,  wildest,  most  destructive  villain  there,  he  saved  his 
old  master's  bones  a  score  of  times.  Nay,  even  when  Mr. 
Tappertit,  excited  by  liquor,  came  up,  and  in  assertion  of  his 
prerogative  politely  kicked  John  Willet  on  the  shins,  Hugh 
bade  him  return  the  compliment ;  and  if  old  John  had  had 
sufficient  i^resence  of  mind  to  understand  this  whispered 
direction,  and  to  profit  by  it,  he  might  no  doubt,  under  Hugh's 
protection,  have  done  so  with  impunity. 

At  length  the  band  began  to  reassemble  outside  the  house, 
and  to  call  to  those  within,  to  join  them,  for  they  were  losing 
time.  These  murmurs  increasing,  and  attaining  a  high  pitch, 
Hugh,  and  some  of  those  who  yet  lingered  in  the  bar,  and 
who  plainly  were  the  leaders  of  the  troop,  took  counsel 
together,  apart,  as  to  what  was  to  be  done  with  John,  to  keep 
him  quiet  until  their  Ciiigwell  work  was  over.  Some  pro- 
posed to  set  the  house  on  fire  and  leave  him  in  it ;  others, 
that  he  should  be  reduced  to  a  state  of  temporary  insensibility, 
by  knocking  on  the  head  ;  others,  that  he  should  be  sworn  to 
sit  where  he  was  until  to-morrow  at  the  same  hour ;  others 
again,  that  he  should  be  gagged  and  taken  off  with  them, 
under  a  sufficient  guard.  All  these  propositions  being  over- 
ruled, it  was  concluded,  at  last,  to  bind  him  in  his  chair,  and 
the  word  was  passed  for  Dennis. 


BAllNABY  BUDGE.  473 

"  Look'ee  here,  Jack  I "  said  Hugh,  striding  up  to  him  : 
"We're  going  to  tie  you,  hand  and  foot,  but  otherwise  you 
won't  be  hurt.     D'ye  hear  ?  " 

John  Willet  looked  at  another  man,  as  if  he  didn't  know 
which  was  the  speaker,  and  muttered  something  about  an 
ordinary  every  Sunday  at  two  o'clock. 

"  You  won't  be  hurt  I  tell  you.  Jack  —  do  you  hear  me  ?  " 
roared  Hugh,  impressing  the  assurance  upon  him  by  means 
of  a  heavy  blow  on  the  back.  "  He's  so  dead  scared,  he's 
wool-gathering,  I  think.  Give  him  a  drop  of  something  to 
drink  here.     Hand  over,  one  of  you." 

A  glass  of  liquor  being  passed  forward,  Hugh  poured  the 
contents  down  old  John's  throat.  Mr.  Willet  feebly  smacked 
his  lips,  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  inquired  what 
what  was  to  pa}' ;  adding  as  he  looked  vacantly  round,  that  he 
believed  there  was  a  trifle  of  broken  glass  — 

"  He's  out  of  his  senses  for  the  time,  it's  my  belief,"  said 
Hugh,  after  shaking  him,  without  any  visible  effect  upon  his 
system,  until  his  ke3's  rattled  in  his  pocket.  "  Where's  that 
Dennis  ?  " 

The  word  was  again  passed,  and  presently  ^Ir.  Dennis  with 
a  long  cord  bound  about  his  middle,  something  after  the 
manner  of  a  friar,  came  hurrying  in,  attended  by  a  body- 
guard of  half  a  dozen  of  his  men. 

"  Come  !  Be  alive  here  !  "  cried  Hugh,  stamping  his  foot 
upon  the  ground.     "  jMake  haste  !  " 

Dennis,  with  a  wink  and  a  nod,  unwound  the  cord  from 
about  his  person,  and  raising  his  eyes  to  tlie  ceiling,  looked 
all  over  it,  and  round  the  walls  and  cornice,  with  a  curious 
eye  ;  then  shook  his  head. 

"Move,  man,  can't  you!"  cried  Hugh,  with  another  impa- 
tient stamp  of  his  foot.  "Are  we  to  wait  here  till  the 
cry  has  gone  for  ten  miles  round,  and  our  work's  inter- 
rupted ?  " 

"It's  all  very  fine  talking,  brother,''  answered  Dennis, 
stepping  towards  him  ;  "but  unless  "  — and  here  he  whispered 
in  his  ear  —  "unless  we  do  it  over  the  door,  it  can't  be  done 
at  all  in  this  here  room." 

"  What  can't  ?  "  Hugh  demanded. 


474  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

"What  can't!"  retorted  Dennis.  "Why,  the  old  man 
can't." 

"  Why,  you  weren't  going  to  hang  him  !  "  cried  Hugh. 

"  No,  brother  ? "  returned  the  hangman,  with  a  stare. 
"  What  else  ?  " 

Hugh  made  no  answer,  but  snatching  the  rope  from  his 
companion's  hand,  proceeded  to  bind  old  John  himself ;  but 
his  very  first  move  was  so  bungling  and  unskilful,  that  Mr. 
Dennis  entreated,  almost  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he  might 
be  permitted  to  perform  the  duty.  Hugh  consenting,  he 
achieved  it  in  a  twinkling. 

"There!"  he  said,  looking  mournfully  at  John  Willet, 
who  displayed  no  more  emotion  in  his  bonds  than  he  had 
shown  out  of  them.  "  That's  what  I  call  pretty,  and  work- 
manlike. He's  quite  a  picter  now.  But,  brother,  just  a 
word  with  you  —  now  that  he's  ready  trussed,  as  one  may  say, 
wouldn't  it  be  better  for  all  parties  if  we  was  to  work  him 
off?  It  would  read  uncommon  well  in  the  newspapers,  it 
would  indeed.  The  public  would  think  a  great  deal  more 
on  us !  " 

Hugh,  inferring  what  his  companion  meant,  rather  from 
his  gestures  than  his  technical  mode  of  expressing  himself  (to 
wliich,  as  he  was  ignorant  of  his  calling,  he  wanted  the  clew), 
rejected  this  proposition  for  the  second  time,  and  gave  the 
word  "  Forward ! "  which  was  echoed  by  a  hundred  voices 
from  without. 

"  To  the  Warren ! "  shouted  Dennis  as  he  ran  out,  followed 
by  the  rest.     "'  A  witness'  house,  my  lads  !  " 

A  loud  yell  followed,  and  the  whole  throng  hurried  off, 
mad  for  pillage  and  destruction.  Hugh  lingered  behind  for  a 
few  moments  to  stimulate  himself  with  more  drink,  and  to' 
set  all  the  taps  running,  a  few  of  which  had  accidentally  been 
spared;  then,  glancing  round  the  despoiled  and  plundered 
room,  through  whose  shattered  window  the  rioters  had  thrust 
the  Maypole  itself,  —  for  even  that  had  been  sawn  down,  — 
lighted  a  torch,  clapped  the  mute  and  motionless  John  Willet 
on  the  back,  and  waving  his  light  above  his  head,  and  uttering 
a  fierce  shout,  hastened  after  his  companions. 


BARNABY  BUDGE,  475 


CHAPTER   LV. 

John  Willet,  left  alone  in  his  dismantled  bar,  continued 
to  sit  staring  about  him  ;  awake  as  to  his  eyes,  certainly,  but 
with  all  his  powers  of  reason  and  reflection  in  a  sound  and 
dreamless  sleep.  He  looked  round  upon  the  room  which  had 
been  for  years,  and  was  within  an  hour  ago,  the  pride  of  his 
heart ;  and  not  a  muscle  of  his  face  was  moved.  The  night, 
without,  looked  black  and  cold  through  the  dreary  gaps  in 
the  casement ;  the  precious  liquids,  noH'  nearly  leaked  away, 
dripped  with  a  hollow  sound  upon  the  floor;  the  Maypole 
peered  ruefully  in  through  the  broken  window,  like  the 
bowsprit  of  a  wrecked  ship ;  the  ground  might  have  been  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  it  was  so  strewn  with  precious  fragments. 
Currents  of  air  rushed  in,  as  the  old  doors  jarred  and  creaked 
upon  their  hinges ;  the  candles  flickered  and  guttered  down, 
and  made  long  winding-sheets  ;  the  cheery  deep-red  curtains 
flapped  and  fluttered  idly  in  the  wind  ;  even  the.  stout  Dutch 
kegs,  overthrown  and  lying  empty  in  dark  corners,  seemed 
the  mere  husks  of  good  fellows  whose  jollity  had  departed, 
and  who  could  kindle  with  a  friendly  glow  no  more.  John 
saw  this  desolation,  and  yet  saw  it  not.  He  was  perfectly 
contented  to  sit  there,  staring  at  it,  and  felt  no  more  in- 
dignation or  discomfort  in  his  bonds  than  if  they  had  been 
robes  of  honor.  So  far  as  he  was  personally  concerned,  old 
Time  lay  snoring,  and  the  world  stood  still. 

Save  for  the  dripping  from  the  barrels,  the  rustling  of  such 
light  fragments  of  destruction  as  the  wind  affected,  and  the 
dull  creaking  of  the  open  doors,  all  was  profoundly  quiet : 
indeed,  these  sounds,  like  the  ticking  of  the  deatli-watch  in 
the  night,  only  made  tlie  silence  they  invaded  deeper  and 
more  apparent.  But  quiet  or  noisy,  it  was  all  one  to  John. 
If  a  train  of  heavy  artillery  could  have  come  up  and  com- 


476  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

menced  ball  practice  outside  the  window,  it  would  have  been 
all  the  same  to  him.  He  was  a  long  way  beyond  surprise. 
A  ghost  couldn't  have  overtaken  him. 

By  and  by  he  heard  a  footstep  —  a  hurried,  and  yet  cautious 
footstep  —  coming  on  towards  the  house.  It  stopped,  advanced 
again,  then  seemed  to  go  quite  round  it.  Having  done  that, 
it  came  beneath  the  window,  and  a  head  looked  in. 

It  was  strongly  relieved  against  the  darkness  outside  by  the 
glare  of  the  guttering  candles.  A  pale,  worn,  withered  face ; 
the  eyes  —  but  that  was  owing  to  its  gaunt  condition  —  un- 
naturally large  and  bright ;  the  hair,  a  grizzled  black.  It  gave 
a  searching  glance  all  round  the  room,  and  a  deep  voice  said,  — 

'•  Are  you  alone  in  this  house  ?  " 

John  made  no  sign,  though  the  question  was  repeated  twice, 
and  he  heard  it  distinctly.  After  a  moment's  pause,  the  man 
got  in  at  the  window.  John  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  this, 
either.  There  had  been  so  much  getting  in  and  out  of  window 
in  the  course  of  the  last  hour  or  so,  that  he  had  quite  forgotten 
the  door,  and  seemed  to  have  lived  among  such  exercises  from 
infancy. 

The  man  wore  a  large,  dark,  faded  cloak,  and  a  slouched 
hat ;  he  walked  up  close  to  John,  and  looked  at  him.  John 
returned  the  compliment  v/ith  interest. 

'-  How  long  have  you  been  sitting  thus  ?  "  said  the  man. 

John  considered,  but  nothing  came  of  it. 

"  Which  way  have  the  party  gone  ?  " 

Some  wandering  speculations  relative  to  the  fashion  of  the 
stranger's  boots,  got  into  Mr.  Willet's  mind  b}'  some  accident 
or  other,  but  they  got  out  again  in  a  hurry,  and  left  him  in 
his  former  state. 

"  You  would  do  well  to  speak,"  said  the  man :  "  you  may 
keep  a  whole  skin,  though  you  have  nothing  else  left  that  can 
be  hurt.     Which  way  have  the  party  gone  ?  " 

"  That ! "  said  John,  finding  his  voice  all  at  once,  and 
nodding  with  perfect  good  faith  —  he  couldn't  point ;  he  was 
so  tightly  bound  —  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction  to  the 
right  one. 

"You  lie!"  said  the  man  angrily,  and  with  a  threatening 
gesture.     I  came  that  way.     You  would  betray  me." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  477 

It  was  so  evident  that  John's  imperturbability  was  not 
assumed,  but  was  the  result  of  the  late  proceedings  under  his 
roof,  that  the  man  stayed  his  hand  in  the  very  act  of  striking 
him,  and  turned  away. 

John  looked  after  him  without  so  much  as  a  twitch  in  a 
single  nerve  of  his  face.  He  seized  a  glass,  and  holding  it 
under  one  of  the  little  casks  until  a  few  drops  were  collected, 
drank  them  greedily  off ;  then  throwing  it  down  upon  the 
floor  impatiently,  he  took  the  vessel  in  his  hands  and  drained 
it  into  his  throat.  Some  scraps  of  bread  and  meat  were  scat- 
tered about,  and  on  these  he  fell  next;  eating  them  with 
voracity,  and  pausing  every  now  and  then  to  listen  for  some 
fancied  noise  outside.  When  he  had  refreshed  himself  in  this 
manner  with  violent  haste,  and  raised  another  barrel  to  his 
lips,  he  pulled  his  hat  upon  his  brow  as  though  he  were  about 
to  leave  the  house,  and  turned  to  John. 

"  Where  are  your  servants  ?  '* 

Mr.  Millet  indistinctly  remembered  to  have  heard  the  rioters 
calling  to  them  to  throw  the  key  of  the  room  in  which  they 
were,  out  of  window,  for  their  keeping.  He  therefore  replied, 
"Locked  up." 

"  Well  for  them  if  they  remain  quiet,  and  well  for  you  if 
you  do  the  like,"  said  the  man.  "  Now  show  me  the  way  the 
party  went." 

This  time  Mr.  Willet  indicated  it  correctly.  The  man  was 
hurrying  to  the  door,  when  suddenly  there  came  towards  them 
on  the  wind,  the  loud  and  rapid  tolling  of  an  alarm  bell,  and 
then  a  bright  and  vivid  glare  streamed  up,  which  illumined, 
not  only  the  whole  chamber,  but  all  the  country. 

It  was  not  the  sudden  change  from  darkness  to  this  dreadful 
light,  it  was  not  the  sound  of  distant  shrieks  and  shouts  of 
triumph,  it  was  not  this  dread  invasion  of  the  serenity  and 
peace  of  night,  that  drove  the  man  back  as  though  a  thunder- 
bolt had  struck  him.  It  was  the  Bell.  If  the  ghastliest 
shape  the  human  mind  has  ever  pictured  in  its  wildest  dreams 
had  risen  up  before  him,  he  could  not  liave  staggered  back- 
ward from  its  touch,  as  he  did  from  the  first  sound  of  that 
loud  iron  voice.  With  eyes  that  started  from  his  head,  liis 
limbs  convulsed,  his  face  most  horrible  to  see,  he  raised  one 


478  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

arm  high  up  into  the  air,  and  holding  something  visionary 
back  and  down,  with  his  other  hand,  drove  at  it  as  though  he 
held  a  knife  and  stabbed  it  to  the  heart.  He  clutched  his 
hair,  and  stopped  his  ears,  and  travelled  madly  round  and 
round ;  then  gave  a  frightful  cry,  and  with  it  rushed  away : 
still,  still,  the  Bell  tolled  on  and  seemed  to  follow  him  — 
louder  and  louder,  hotter  and  hotter  3'et.  The  glare  grew 
brighter,  the  roar  of  voices  deeper ;  the  crash  of  heavy  bodies 
falling  shook  the  air ;  briglit  streams  of  sparks  rose  up  into 
the  sky;  but  louder  than  them  all  —  rising  faster  far,  to 
Heaven  —  a  million  times  more  fierce  and  furious  —  pouring 
forth  dreadful  secrets  after  its  long  silence  —  speaking  the 
language  of  the  dead  —  the  Bell  —  the  Bell! 

What  hunt  of  spectres  could  surpass  that  dread  pursuit  and 
flight !  Had  there  been  a  legion  of  them  on  his  track,  he 
could  have  better  borne  it.  They  would  have  had  a  beginning 
and  an  end,  but  here  all  space  was  full.  The  one  pursuing 
voice  was  everywhere :  it  sounded  in  the  earth,  the  air ; 
shook  the  long  grass,  and  howled  among  the  trembling  trees. 
The  echoes  caught  it  up,  the  owls  hooted  as  it  flew  upon  the 
breeze,  the  nightingale  was  silent  and  hid  herself  among  the 
thickest  boughs  :  it  seemed  to  goad  and  urge  the  angry  fire, 
and  lash  it  into  madness ;  everything  was  steeped  in  one  pre- 
vailing red ;  the  glow  was  everywhere ;  nature  was  drenched 
in  blood  :  still  the  remorseless  crying  of  that  awful  voice  —  the 
Bell,  the  Bell ! 

It  ceased  ;  but  not  in  his  ears.  The  knell  was  at  his  heart. 
No  work  of  man  had  ever  voice  like  that  which  sounded  there, 
and  warned  him  that  it  cried  unceasingly  to  Heaven.  Who 
could  hear  that  bell,  and  not  know  what  it  said !  There  was 
murder  in  its  every  note  —  cruel,  relentless,  savage  murder  — 
the  murder  of  a  confiding  man,  by  one  who  held  his  every 
trust.  Its  ringing  summoned  phantoms  from  their  graves. 
What  face  was  that,  in  which  a  friendly  smile  changed  to  a 
look  of  half  incredulous  horror,  which  stiffened  for  a  moment 
into  one  of  pain,  then  changed  again  into  an  imploring  glance 
at  Heaven,  and  so  fell  idly  down  with  upturned  eyes,  like  the 
dead  stags  he  had  often  peeped  at  when  a  little  child :  shrink- 
ing and  shuddering  —  there  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  think  of 


BARN  A  BY  BUDGE.  479 

now  !  —  and  clinging  to  an  apron  as  he  looked  !  He  sank 
upon  the  ground,  and  grovelling  down  as  if  he  would  dig 
himself  a  place  to  hide  in,  covered  his  face  and  ears  :  but  no, 
no,  no  —  a  hundred  walls  and  roofs  of  brass  would  not  shut 
out  that  bell,  for  in  it  spoke  the  wrathful  voice  of  God,  and 
from  that  voice,  the  whole  wide  universe  could  not  afford  a 
refuge ! 

While  he  rushed  up  and  down,  not  knowing  where  to  turn, 
and  while  he  lay  crouching  there,  the  work  went  briskly  on 
indeed.  When  they  left  the  Maypole,  the  rioters  formed  into 
a  solid  body,  and  advanced  at  a  quick  pace  towards  the 
Warren.  Rumor  of  their  approach  having  gone  before,  they 
found  the  garden  doors  fast  closed,  the  windows  made  secure, 
and  the  house  profoundly  dark :  not  a  light  being  visible  in 
any  portion  of  the  building.  After  some  fruitless  ringing  at 
the  bells,  and  beating  at  the  iron  gates,  they  drew  off  a  few 
paces  to  reconnoitre,  and  confer  upon  the  course  it  would  be 
best  to  take. 

Very  little  conference  was  needed,  when  all  were  bent  upon 
one  desperate  purpose,  infuriated  with  liquor,  and  flushed 
with  successful  riot.  The  word  being  given  to  surround  the 
house,  some  climbed  the  gates,  or  dropped  into  the  shallow 
trench  and  scaled  the  garden  wall,  while  others  pulled  down 
the  solid  iron  fence,  and  while  they  made  a  breach  to  enter 
by,  made  deadly  weapons  of  the  bars.  The  house  being  com- 
pletely encircled,  a  small  number  of  men  were  despatched  to 
break  open  a  tool-shed  in  the  garden  ;  and  during  their 
absence  on  this  errand,  the  remainder  contented  themselves 
with  knocking  violently  at  the  doors,  and  calling  to  those 
within,  to  come  down  and  open  them  on  peril  of  their  lives. 

No  answer  being  returned  to  this  repeated  summons,  and 
the  detachment  who  had  been  sent  away,  coming  back  with 
an  accession  of  pickaxes,  spades,  and  hoes,  they,  —  together 
with  those  who  had  such  arms  already,  or  carried  (as  many 
did)  axes,  poles,  and  crow-bars,  —  struggled  into  the  foremost 
rank,  ready  to  beset  the  doors  and  windows.  They  had  not 
at  this  time  more  than  a  dozen  lighted  torches  among  them  ; 
but  when  these  preparations  were  completed,  flaming  links 
were    distributed  and   passed  from  hand  to  hand  with  such 


480  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

rapidity,  that,  in  a  minute's  time,  at  least  two-thirds  of  the 
whole  roaring  mass  bore,  each  man  in  his  hand,  a  blazing 
brand.  Whirling  these  about  their  heads  they  raised  a  loud 
shout,  and  fell  to  work  upon  the  doors  and  windows. 

Amidst  the  clattering  of  heavy  blows,  the  rattling  of  broken 
glass,  the  cries  and  execrations  of  the  mob,  and  all  the  din 
and  turmoil  of  the  scene,  Hugh  and  his  friends  kept  together 
at  the  turret  door  where  Mr.  Haredale  had  last  admitted  him 
and  old  John  Willet ;  and  spent  their  united  force  on  that. 
It  was  a  strong  old  oaken  door,  guarded  by  good  bolts  and  a 
heavy  bar,  but  it  soon  went  crashing  in  upon  the  narrow  stairs 
behind,  and  made,  as  it  were,  a  platform  to  facilitate  their 
tearing  up  into  the  rooms  above.  Almost  at  the  same  moment, 
a  dozen  other  points  were  forced,  and  at  every  one  the  crowd 
poured  in  like  water. 

A  few  armed  servant-men  were  posted  in  the  hall,  and 
when  the  rioters  forced  an  entrance  there,  they  fired  some 
half  a  dozen  shots.  But  these  taking  no  effect,  and  tlie  con- 
course coming  on  like  an  army  of  devils,  they  only  thought  of 
consulting  their  own  safety,  and  retreated,  echoing  their 
assailants'  cries,  and  hoping  in  the  confusion  to  be  taken  for 
rioters  themselves  ;  in  which  stratagem  they  succeeded,  with 
the  exception  of  one  old  man  who  was  never  heard  of  again, 
and  was  said  to  have  had  his  brains  beaten  out  with  an  iron 
bar  (one  of  his  fellows  reported  that  he  had  seen  the  old  man 
fall),  and  to  have  been  afterwards  burned  in  the  flames. 

The  besiegers  being  now  in  complete  possession  of  the 
house  spread  themselves  over  it  from  garret  to  cellar,  and 
plied  their  demon  labors  fiercely.  While  some  small  parties 
kindled  bonfires  underneath  the  windows,  others  broke  up  the 
furniture  and  cast  the  fragments  down  to  feed  the  flames 
below ;  where  the  apertures  in  the  wall  (windows  no  longer) 
were  large  enough,  they  threw  out  tables,  chests  of  drawers, 
beds,  mirrors,  pictures,  and  flung  them  whole  into  the  fire ; 
while  every  fresh  addition  to  the  blazing  masses  was  received 
with  shouts,  and  howls,  and  yells,  which  added  new  and 
dismal  terrors  to  the  conflagration.  Those  who  haJ  axes  and 
had  spent  their  fury  on  the  movables,  chopped  and  tore  down 
the  doors  and   window-frames,  broke  up  the  flooring,  hewed 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  481 

away  the  rafters,  and  buried  men  who  lingered  in  the  upper 
rooms,  in  heaps  of  ruins.  Some  searched  the  drawers,  the 
chests,  the  boxes,  writing-desks,  and  closets,  for  jewels,  plate, 
and  money ;  while  others,  less  mindful  of  gain  and  more  mad 
for  destruction,  cast  their  whole  contents  into  the  court-yard 
without  examination,  and  called  to  those  below,  to,  heap  them 
on  the  blaze.  Men  who  had  been  into  the  cellars,  and  had 
staved  the  casks,  rushed  to  and  fro  stark  mad,  setting  fire  to 
all  they  saw  —  often  to  the  dresses  of  their  own  friends  — and 
kindling  the  building  in  so  many  parts  that  some  had  no  time 
for  escape,  and  were  seen,  with  drooping  hands  and  blackened 
faces,  hanging  senseless  on  the  window-sills  to  which  they  had 
crawled,  until  they  were  sucked  and  drawn  into  the  burning 
gulf.  The  more  the  fire  crackled  and  raged,  the  wilder  and 
more  cruel  the  men  grew  ;  as  though  moving  in  that  element 
they  became  fiends,  and  changed  their  earthly  nature  for  the 
qualities  that  give  delight  in  hell. 

The  burning  pile,  revealing  rooms  and  passages  red  hot, 
through  gaps  made  in  the  crumbling  walls :  the  tributary 
fires  that  licked  the  outer  bricks  and  stones,  with  their  long 
forked  tongues,  and  ran  up  to  meet  the  glowing  mass  within ; 
the  shining  of  the  flames  upon  the  villains  who  looked  on  and 
fed  them ;  the  roaring  of  the  angry  blaze,  so  bright  and  high 
that  it  seemed  in  its  rapacity  to  have  swallowed  up  the  very 
smoke ;  the  living  flakes  the  wind  bore  rapidly  away  and 
hurried  on  with,  like  a  storm  of  fiery  snow;  the  noiseless 
breaking  of  great  beams  of  wood,  which  fell  like  feathers  on 
the  heap  of  ashes,  and  crumbled  in  the  very  act  to  sparks  and 
powder;  the  lurid  tinge  that  overspread  the  sky,  and  the 
darkness,  very  deep  by  contrast,  which  prevailed  around ;  the 
exposure  to  the  coarse,  common  gaze,  of  every  little  nook 
which  usages  of  home  had  made  a  sacred  place,  and  the 
destruction  by  rude  hands  of  every  little  household  favorite 
which  old  associations  made  a  dear  and  precious  thing :  all 
this  taking  place  —  not  among  pitying  looks  and  friendly 
murmurs  of  compassion,  but  brutal  shouts  and  exultations, 
which  seemed  to  make  the  very  rats  who  stood  by  the  old 
house  too  long,  creatures  with  some  claim  upon  the  pity  and 
regard  of  those  its  roof  had  sheltered  :  —  combined  to  form  a 

VOL.    I. 


482  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

scene  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  saw  it  and  were  not 
actors  in  the  work,  so  long  as  life  endured. 

And  who  were  they?  The  alarm-bell  rang  —  and  it  was 
pulled  by  no  faint  or  hesitating  hands  —  for  a  long  time  ;  but 
not  a  soul  was  seen.  Some  of  the  insurgents  said  that  when 
it  ceased,  they  heard  the  shrieks  of  women,  and  saw  some 
garments  fluttering  in  the  air,  as  a  party  of  men  bore  away 
no  unresisting  burdens.  No  one  could  say  that  this  was  true 
or  false,  in  such  an  uproar ;  but  where  was  Hugh  ?  Who 
among  them  had  seen  him,  since  the  forcing  of  the  doors  ? 
The  cry  spread  through  the  body.     Where  was  Hugh ! 

"  Here  I  "  he  hoarsely  cried,  appearing  from  the  darkness  ; 
out  of  breath,  and  blackened  with  the  smoke.  "We  have 
done  all  we  can  ;  the  fire  is  burning  itself  out ;  and  even  the 
corners  where  it  hasn't  spread,  are  nothing  but  heaps  of  ruins. 
Disperse,  my  lads,  while  the  coast's  clear;  get  back  by 
different  ways ;  and  meet  as  usual ! "  With  that,  he  dis- 
appeared again,  —  contrary  to  his  wont,  for  he  was  always 
first  to  advance,  and  last  to  go  away,  — leaving  them  to  follow 
homewards  as  they  would. 

It  was  not  an  easy  task  to  draw  off  such  a  throng.  If 
Bedlam  gates  had  been  flung  open  wide,  there  would  not 
have  issued  forth  such  maniacs  as  the  frenzy  of  that  night 
had  made.  There  were  men  there  who  danced  and  trampled 
on  the  beds  of  flowers  as  though  they  trod  down  human 
enemies,  and  wrenched  them  from  the  stalks,  like  savages 
who  twisted  human  necks.  There  were  men  who  cast  their 
lighted  torches  in  the  air,  and  suffered  them  to  fall  upon 
their  heads  and  faces,  blistering  the  skin  with  deep  unseemly 
burns.  There  were  men  who  rushed  up  to  the  fire,  and 
paddled  in  it  with  their  hands  as  if  in  water ;  and  others  who 
were  restrained  by  force  from  plunging  in,  to  gratify  their 
deadly  longing.  On  the  skull  of  one  drunken  lad  —  not 
twenty,  by  his  looks  —  who  lay  upon  the  ground  with  a  bottle 
to  his  mouth,  the  lead  from  the  roof  came  streaming  down  in 
a  shower  of  liquid  fire,  white  hot ;  melting  his  head  like  wax. 
When  the  scattered  parties  were  collected,  men  —  living  yet, 
but  singed  as  with  hot  irons  —  were  plucked  out  of  the  cellars, 
and  carried  off  upon  the  shoulders  of  others,  who   strove  to 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  483 

wake  them  as  they  went  along,  with  ribakl  jokes,  and  left 
them,  dead,  in  the  passages  of  hospitals.  But  of  all  the 
howling  throng  not  one  learned  mercy  from,  or  sickened  at, 
these  sights ;  nor  was  the  fierce,  besotted,  senseless  rage  of 
one  man  glutted. 

Slowly,  and  in  small  clusters,  with  hoarse  hurrahs  and 
repetitions  of  their  usual  cry,  the  assembly  dropped  away. 
The  last  few  red-eyed  stragglers  reeled  after  those  who  had 
gone  before  ;  the  distant  noise  of  men  calling  to  each  other, 
and  whistling  for  others  whom  they  missed,  grew  fainter  and 
fainter ;  at  length  even  these  sounds  died  away,  and  silence 
reigned  alone. 

Silence  indeed !  The  glare  of  the  flames  had  sunk  into  a 
fitful  flashing  light ;  and  the  gentle  stars,  invisible  till  now, 
looked  down  upon  tlie  blackening  heap.  A  dull  smoke  hung 
upon  the  ruin,  as  though  to  hide  it  from  those  eyes  of  Heaven ; 
and  the  wind  forebore  to  move  it.  Bare  walls,  roof  open  to 
the  sky  —  chambers,  where  the  beloved  dead  had,  many  and 
many  a  fair  day,  risen  to  new  life  and  energy  ;  where  so 
many  dear  ones  had  been  sad  and  merry ;  which  were  con- 
nected with  so  many  thoughts  and  hopes,  regrets  and  changes 
—  all  gone.  Nothing  left  but  a  dull  and  dreary  blank  —  a 
smouldering  heap  of  dust  and  ashes  —  tiie  silence  and  solitude 
of  utter  desolation. 


484  BAENABY  BUDGE. 


CHAPTER   LVL 

The  Maypole  cronies,  little  dreaming  of  the  change  so  soon 
to  come  upon  their  favorite  haunt,  struck  through  the  Forest 
path  upon  their  way  to  London ;  and  avoiding  the  main  road, 
which  was  hot  and  dusty,  kept  to  the  by-paths  and  the 
fields.  As  they  drew  nearer  to  their  destination,  they  began 
to  make  inquiries  of  the  people  whom  they  passed,  concerning 
the  riots,  and  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  stories  they  had 
heard.  The  answers  went  far  beyond  any  intelligence  that 
had  spread  to  quiet  Chigwell.  One  man  told  them  that  that 
afternoon  the  Guards,  conveying  to  Newgate  some  rioters  who 
had  been  re-examined,  had  been  set  upon  by  the  mob  and 
compelled  to  retreat ;  another,  that  the  houses  of  two  witnesses 
near  Clare  Market  were  about  to  be  pulled  down  when  he 
came  away ;  another,  that  Sir  George  Saville's  house  in 
Leicester  Fields  was  to  be  burned  that  night,  and  that  it 
would  go  hard  with  Sir  George  if  he  fell  into  the  people's 
hands,  as  it  was  he  who  had  brought  in  the  Catholic  bill.  All 
accounts  agreed  that  the  mob  were  out,  in  stronger  numbers 
and  more  numerous  parties  than  had  yet  appeared;  that  the 
streets  were  unsafe  ;  that  no  man's  house  or  life  was  worth  an 
hour's  purchase ;  that  the  public  consternation  was  increasing 
every  moment ;  and  that  many  families  had  already  fled  the 
city.  One  fellow  who  wore  the  popular  color,  damned  them 
for  not  having  cockades  in  their  hats,  and  bade  them  set  a 
good  watch  to-morrow  night  upon  the  prison  doors,  for  the 
locks  would  have  a  straining ;  another  asked  if  they  were 
fire-proof,  that  they  walked  abroad  without  the  distinguishing 
mark  of  all  good  and  true  men;  and  a  third  who  rode  on 
horseback,  and  was  quite  alone,  ordered  them  to  throw,  each 
man  a  shilling,  in  his  hat,  towards  the  support  of  the  rioters. 
Although  they  were   afraid  to   refuse   compliance   with  this 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  485 

demand,  and  were  much  alarmed  by  these  reports,  they 
agreed,  having  come  so  far,  to  go  forward  and  see  the  real 
state  of  things  with  their  own  eyes.  So  they  pushed  on 
quicker,  as  men  do  who  are  excited  by  portentous  news ;  and 
ruminating  on  what  they  had  heard,  spoke  little  to  each  other. 

It  was  now  night,  and  as  they  came  nearer  to  the  city,  they 
had  dismal  confirmation  of  this  intelligence  in  three  great 
fires,  all  close  together,  which  burned  fiercely  and  were  gloomily 
reflected  in  the  sky.  Arriving  in  the  immediate  suburbs, 
they  found  that  almost  every  house  had  chalked  upon  its  door 
in  large  characters  "  No  Popery,"  that  the  shops  were  shut, 
and  that  alarm  and  anxiety  were  depicted  in  every  face  they 
passed. 

Noting  these  things  with  a  degree  of  apprehension  which 
neither  of  the  three  cared  to  impart,  in  its  full  extent,  to  his 
companions,  they  came  to  a  turnpike  gate,  which  was  shut. 
They  were  passing  through  the  turnstile  on  the  path,  when  a 
horseman  rode  up  from  London  at  a  hard  gallop,  and  called 
to  the  toll-keeper  in  a  voice  of  great  agitation,  to  open  quickly 
in  the  name  of  God. 

The  adjuration  was  so  earnest,  and  vehement,  that  the  man, 
with  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  came  running  out  —  toll-keeper 
though  he  was  —  and  was  about  to  throw  the  gate  open,  when 
happening  to  look  behind  him,  he  exclaimed,  "  Good  Heaven, 
what's  that !     Another  fire  !  " 

At  this,  the  three  turned  their  heads,  and  saw  in  the 
distance  —  straight  in  the  direction  whence  they  had  come  — 
a  broad  sheet  of  flame,  casting  a  threatening  liglit  upon  the 
clouds,  which  glimmered  as  though  the  conflagration  were 
behind  them,  and  showed  like  a  wrathful  sunset. 

"  ]\[y  mind  misgives  me,"  said  the  horseman,  ^'  or  I  know 
from  what  far  building  those  flames  come.  Don't  stand 
aghast,  my  good  fellow.     Open  the  gate  !  " 

"Sir,"  cried  the  man,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  horse's 
bridle  as  he  let  him  through:  "I  know  you  now,  sir;  be 
advised  by  me  ;  do  not  go  on.  I  saw  them  pass,  and  know 
what  kind  of  men  they  are     You  will  be  murdered." 

"So  be  it!"  said  the  horseman,  looking  intently  towards 
the  fire,  and  not  at  him  wlio  spoke. 


486  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"But  sir  —  sir/'  cried  the  man,  grasping  at  his  rein  more 
tightlj^  yet,  "  if  you  do  go  on,  wear  the  blue  riband.  Here, 
sir,"  he  added,  taking  one  from  his  own  hat,  "  it's  necessity, 
not  choice,  that  makes  me  wear  it :  it's  love  of  life  and  home, 
sir.     Wear  it  for  this  one  night,  sir;  only  for  this  one  night." 

''  Do !  "  cried  the  three  friends,  pressing  round  his  horse. 
'•'  Mr.  Haredale  —  worthy  sir  —  good  gentleman  —  pray  be 
persuaded." 

"  \Yho's  that  ? "  cried  Mr.  Haredale,  stooping  down  to 
look     "  Did  I  hear  Daisy's  voice  ?  " 

"You  did,  sir,"  cried  the  little  man.  "Do  be  persuaded, 
sir.  This  gentleman  says  very  true.  Your  life  may  hang 
upon  it." 

"  Are  you,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  abruptly,  "  afraid  to  come 
with  me  ?  " 

"I,  sir?  — X-n-no." 

"Put  that  riband  in  your  hat.  If  we  meet  the  rioters, 
swear  that  I  took  you  prisoner  for  wearing  it.  I  will  tell 
them  so  with  my  own  lips  ;  for  as  I  hope  for  mercy  when  I 
die,  I  will  take  no  quarter  from  them,  nor  shall  they  have 
quarter  from  me,  if  we  come  hand  to  hand  to-night.  Up 
here  —  behind  me  —  quick  !  Clasp  me  tight  round  the  body, 
and  fear  nothing." 

In  an  instant  they  were  riding  away,  at  full  gallop,  in  a 
dense  cloud  of  dust,  and  speeding  on,  like  hunters  in  a  dream. 

It  was  well  the  good  horse  knew  the  road  he  traversed,  for 
never  once  —  no,  never  once  in  all  the  journey  —  did  'Mr. 
Haredale  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  or  turn  them,  for  an 
instant,  from  the  light  towards  which  they  sped  so  madly. 
Once  he  said  in  a  low  voice  "  It  is  my  house,"  but  that  was 
the  only  time  he  spoke.  When  they  came  to  dark  and 
doubtful  places,  he  never  forgot  to  put  his  hand  upon  the 
little  man  to  hold  him  more  securely  in  his  seat,  but  he 
kept  his  head  erect  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fire,  then,  and 
always. 

The  road  was  dangerous  enough,  for  they  went  the  nearest 
way  —  headlong  —  far  from  the  highway  —  by  lonely  lanes 
and  paths,  where  wagon-wheels  had  worn  deep  ruts ;  where 
hedge  and  ditch  hemmed  in  the  narrow  strip  of  ground;  and 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  487 

tall  trees;  arching  overhead,  made  it  profoundly  dark.  But 
on,  on,  on,  with  neither  stop  nor  stumble,  till  they  reached 
the  Maypole  door,  and  could  plainly  see  that  the  fire  began  to 
fade,  as  if  for  want  of  fuel. 

"Down  —  for  one  moment  —  for  but  one  moment,"  said 
Mr.  Haredale,  helping  Daisy  to  the  ground,  and  following 
himself.  "Willet  —  AVillet  —  where  are  my  niece  and  ser- 
vants —  Willet !  " 

Crying  to  him  distractedly,  he  rushed  into  the  bar.  —  The 
landlord  bound  and  fastened  to  his  chair;  the  place  dis- 
mantled, stripped,  and  pulled  about  his  ears  ;  —  nobody  could 
have  taken  shelter  here. 

He  was  a  strong  man,  accustomed  to  restrain  himself,  and 
suppress  his  strong  emotions ;  but  this  preparation  for  what 
was  to  follow  —  though  he  had  seen  that  fire  burning,  and 
knew  that  his  house  must  be  razed  to  the  ground  —  was  more 
than  he  could  bear.  He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  for  a 
moment,  and  turned  away  his  head. 

"  Johnny,  Johnny,"  said  Solomon  —  and  the  simple-hearted 
fellow  cried  outright,  and  wrung  his  hands  —  "  Oh  dear  old 
Johnny,  here's  a  change  !  That  the  Maypole  bar  should 
come  to  this,  and  we  should  live  to  see  it !  The  old  Warren 
too,  Johnny  —  Mr.  Haredale  —  oh,  Johnny,  what  a  piteous 
sight  this  is  !  " 

Pointing  to  Mr.  Haredale  as  he  said  these  words,  little 
Solomon  Daisy  put  his  elbows  on  the  back  of  Mr.  Willet's 
chair,  and  fairly  blubbered  on  his  shoulder. 

While  Solomon  was  speaking,  old  John  sat,  mute  as  a 
stock-fish,  staring  at  him  with  an  unearthly  glare,  and  dis- 
playing, by  every  possible  sympton,  entire  and  complete 
unconsciousness.  But  when  Solomon  was  silent  again,  John 
followed,  with  his  great  round  eyes,  the  direction  of  his 
looks,  and  did  appear  to  have  some  dawning  distant  notion 
that  somebody  had  come  to  see  him. 

"You  know  us,  don't  you,  Johnny  ?  "  said  the  little  clerk, 
rapping  himself  on  the  breast.  "  Daisy,  you  know  —  Chig- 
well  Church  —  bell-ringer  —  little  desk  on  Sundays  —  eh, 
Johnny  ?  " 

Mr.  Willet  reflected  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  muttered, 


488  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

as  it  were  mechanically :  ''  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise  and 
glory  of  "  — 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  cried  the  little  man,  hastily  ;  '"  that's  it 
—  that's  me,  Johnny.  You're  all  right  now,  ain't  you?  Say 
you're  all  right,  Johnny." 

"  All  riglit  ? "  pondered  Mr.  Willet,  as  if  that  were  a 
matter  entirely  between  himself  and  his  conscience.  "All 
riglit  ?     Ah  !  " 

"They  haven't  been  misusing  you  with  sticks,  or  pokers, 
or  any  other  blunt  instruments,  —  have  they,  Johnny  ?  " 
asked  Solomon,  with  a  very  anxious  glance  at  Mr.  Willet's 
head.     "  They  didn't  beat  you,  did  they  ?  " 

John  knitted  his  brow ;  looked  downwards,  as  if  he  were 
mentally  engaged  in  some  arithmetical  calculation ;  then 
upwards,  as  if  the  total  would  not  come  at  his  call;  then  at 
Solomon  Daisy,  from  his  eyebrow  to  his  shoe-buckle;  then 
ver}^  slowly  round  the  bar.  And  then  a  great,  round,  leaden- 
looking,  and  not  at  all  transparent  tear,  came  rolling  out  of 
each  eye,  and  he  said,  as  he  shook  his  head,  — 

"  If  they'd  only  had  the  goodness  to  murder  me,  I'd  have 
th«,nked  'em  kindly." 

"  No,  no,  no,  don't  say  that,  Johnny,"  whimpered  his  little 
friend.  "It's  very,  very  bad,  but  not  quite  so  bad  as  that. 
No,  no ! " 

"  Look'ee  here,  sir ! "  cried  John,  turning  his  rueful  eyes 
on  ]\[r.  Haredale,  who  had  dropped  on  one  knee,  and  was 
hastily  beginning  to  untie  his  bonds.  "Look'ee  here,  sir! 
The  very  Maypole  —  the  old  dumb  Maypole  —  stares  in  at 
the  winder,  as  if  it  said,  '  John  Willet,  John  Willet,  let's  go 
and  pitch  ourselves  in  the  nighest  pool  of  water  as  is  deep 
enough  to  hold  us  ;  for  our  day  is  over  ! '  " 

"'  Don't,  Johnny,  don't,"  cried  his  friend :  no  less  affected 
by  this  mournful  effort  of  Mr.  Willet's  imagination,  than  by 
the  sepulchral  tone  in  which  he  had  spoken  for  the  INIaypole. 
"Please  don't,  Johnny!" 

"Your  loss  is  great,  and  yonv  misfortune  a  heavy  one," 
said  Mr.  Haredale,  looking  restlessly  towards  the  door :  "and 
this  is  not  a  time  to  comfort  you.  If  it  were,  I  am  in  no 
condition  to  do  so.     Before  I  leave  you,  tell  me  one  thing, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  489 

and  try  to  tell  me  plainly,  I  implore  you.  Have  you  seeu  or 
heard  of  Emma  ?  " 

"  No  !  "    said  Mr.  Willet. 

"  Nor  any  one  but  these  bloodhounds  ? '' 

"No!" 

"  They  rode  away,  I  trust  in  Heaven,  before  these  dreadful 
scenes  began,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  who,  between  his  agitation, 
his  eagerness  to  mount  his  horse  again,  and  the  dexterity 
with  which  the  cords  were  tied,  had  scarcely  yet  undone  one 
knot.     "A  knife,  Daisy  ! " 

"  You  didn't,"  said  John,  looking  about,  as  though  he  had 
lost  his  pocket-handkerchief  or  some  such  slight  article  — 
"either  of  you  gentlemen  —  see  a  —  a  coffin  anywheres,  did 
you  ?  " 

"  Willet !  "  cried  Mr.  Haredale.  Solomon  dropped  the 
knife,  and  instantly  becoming  limp  from  head  to  foot,  ex- 
claimed, "  Good  gracious  !  " 

"  —  Because,"  said  John,  not  at  all  regarding  them,  "a 
dead  man  called  a  little  time  ago,  on  his  way  yonder.  I 
could  have  told  you  what  name  was  on  the  plate,  if  he  had 
brought  his  coffin  with  him,  and  left  it  behind.  If  he  didn't, 
it  don't  signify." 

His  landlord,  who  had  listened  to  these  words  with  breath- 
less attention,  started  that  moment  to  his  feet ;  and,  without  a 
word,  drew  Solomon  Daisy  to  the  door,  mounted  his  horse, 
took  him  up  behind  again,  and  flew  rather  than  galloped 
towards  the  pile  of  ruins,  which  that  day's  sun  had  shone 
upon,  a  stately  house.  Mr.  Willet  stared  after  them,  listened, 
looked  down  upon  himself  to  make  quite  sure  that  he  was 
still  unbound,  and,  without  any  manifestation  of  impatience, 
disappointment,  or  surprise,  gently  relapsed  into  the  condition 
from  which  he  had  so  imperfectly  recovered. 

Mr.  Haredale  tied  his  horse  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and 
grasping  his  companion's  arm,  stole  softly  along  the  footpath, 
and  into  what  liad  been  the  garden  of  his  liouse.  He  stopped 
for  an  instant  to  look  upon  its  smoking  walls,  and  at  the  stars 
that  shone  through  roof  and  floor  upon  the  heap  of  crumbling 
ashes.  Solomon  glanced  timidly  in  his  face,  but  his  lips  were 
tightly  pressed  together,  a  resolute  and  stern  expression  sat 


490  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

upon  his  brow,  and  not  a  tear,  a  look,  or  gesture  indicating 
grief,  escaped  him. 

He  drew  his  sword :  felt  for  a  moment  in  his  breast,  as 
though  he  carried  other  arms  about  him ;  then  grasping 
Solomon  hj  the  wrist  again,  went  with  a  cautious  step  all 
round  the  house.  He  looked  into  every  doorway  and  gap  in 
the  wall ;  retraced  his  steps  at  every  rustling  of  the  air  among 
the  leaves ;  and  searched  in  every  shadowed  nook  with  out- 
stretched hands.  Thus  they  made  the  circuit  of  the  building : 
but  they  returned  to  the  spot  from  which  they  had  set  out, 
without  encountering  any  human  being,  or  finding  the  least 
trace  of  any  concealed  straggler. 

After  a  short  pause,  Mr.  Haredale  shouted  twice  or  thrice. 
Then  cried  aloud,  '•  Is  there  any  one  in  hiding  here,  who 
knows  my  voice !  There  is  nothing  to  fear  now.  If  any  of 
my  people  are  here,  I  entreat  them  to  answer !  "  He  called 
them  all  by  name ;  his  voice  was  echoed  in  many  mournful 
tones ;  then  all  was  silent  as  before. 

They  were  standing  near  the  foot  of  the  turret,  where  the 
alarm-bell  hung.  The  fire  had  raged  there,  and  the  floors 
had  been  sawn,  and  hewn,  and  beaten  down,  besides.  It  was 
open  to  the  night ;  but  a  part  of  the  staircase  still  remained, 
winding  upward  from  a  great  mound  of  dust  and  cinders. 
Fragments  of  the  jagged  and  broken  steps  offered  an  insecure 
and  gidd}'  footing  here  and  there,  and  then  were  lost  again, 
behind  protruding  angles  of  the  wall,  or  in  the  deep  shadows 
cast  upon  it  by  other  portions  of  the  ruin ;  for  by  this  time 
the  moon  had  risen,  and  shone  brightly. 

As  they  stood  here,  listening  to  the  echoes  as  they  died 
away,  and  hoping  in  vain  to  hear  a  voice  they  knew,  some  of 
the  ashes  in  this  turret  slipped  and  rolled  down.  Startled  by 
the  least  noise  in  that  melancholy  place,  Solomon  looked  up 
at  his  companion's  face,  and  saw  that  he  had  turned  towards 
the  spot,  and  that  he  watched  and  listened  keenly. 

He  covered  the  little  man's  mouth  with  his  hand,  and 
looked  again.  Instantly,  with  kindling  eyes,  he  bade  him  on 
his  life  keep  still,  and  neither  speak  nor  move.  Then  holding 
his  breath,  and  stooping  down,  he  stole  into  the  turret,  with 
his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  disappeared. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  491 

Terrified  to  be  left  there  by  himself,  under  such  desolate 
circumstances,  and  after  all  he  had  seen  and  heard  that  night, 
Solomon  would  have  followed,  but  there  had  been  something 
in  Mr.  Haredale's  manner  and  his  IcTok,  the  recollection  of 
which  held  him  spellbound.  He  stood  rooted  to  the  spat; 
and  scarcely  venturing  to  breathe,  looked  up  with  mingled 
fear  and  wonder. 

Again  the  ashes  slipped  and  rolled  —  very,  very  softly  — 
again  —  and  then  again,  as  though  the}^  crumbled  underneath 
the  tread  of  a  stealthy  foot.  And  now  a  figure  was  dimly 
visible ;  climbing  very  softly  ;  and  often  stopping  to  look 
down ;  now  it  pursued  its  difficult  way ;  and  now  it  was 
hidden  from  the  view  again. 

It  emerged  once  more,  into  the  shadowy  and  uncertain 
light  —  higher  now,  but  not  much,  for  the  way  was  steep  and 
toilsome,  and  its  progress  very  slow.  AVhat  phantom  of  the 
brain  did  he  pursue  ;  and  why  did  he  look  down  so  con- 
•stantly.  He  knew  he  was  alone  ?  Surely  his  mind  was  not 
affected  by  that  night's  loss  and  agony.  He  was  not  about  to 
throw  himself  headlong  from  the  summit  of  the  tottering 
wall.  Solomon  turned  sick,  and  clasped  his  hands.  His 
limbs  trembled  beneath  him,  and  a  cold  sweat  broke  out  upon 
his  pallid  face. 

If  he  complied  with  Mr.  Haredale's  last  injunction  now,  it 
was  because  he  had  not  the  power  to  speak  or  move.  He 
strained  his  gaze,  and  fixed  it  on  a  patch  of  moonlight,  into 
which,  if  he  continued  to  ascend,  he  must  soon  emerge. 
When  he  appeared  there,  he  would  try  to  call  to  him. 

Again  the  ashes  slipped  and  crumbled  ;  some  stones  rolled 
down,  and  fell  with  a  dull,  heavy  sound  upon  the  ground 
below.  He  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  piece  of  moonlight.  The 
figure  was  coming  on,  for  its  shadow  was  already  thrown 
upon  the  wall.  Now  it  appeared  —  and  now  looktnl  round  at 
him  —  and  now  — 

The  horror-stricken  clerk  uttered  a  scream  that  pierced  the 
air,  and  cried  ''  The  ghost !     The  ghost !  " 

Long  before  the  echo  of  his  cry  had  died  away,  another 
form  ruslied  out  into  the  light,  flung  itself  upon  the  foremost 
one,  knelt  down  upon  its  breast,  and  clutched  its  throat  with 
both  hands. 


492  BARNABT  RUDGE. 

"  Villain  !  "  cried  Mr.  Haredale,  in  a  terrible  voice  —  for  it 
was  he.  "Dead  and  buried,  as  all  men  supposed  through 
your  infernal  arts,  but  reserved  by  Heaven  for  this  — at  last — 
at  last  —  I  have  you.  You,  whose  hands  are  red  with  my 
brother's  blood,  and  that  of  his  faithful  servant,  shed  to 
conceal  your  own  atrocious  guilt  —  You,  Eudge,  double  mur- 
derer and  monster,  I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  God,  who  has 
delivered  you  into  my  hands.  Xo.  Though  you  had  the 
strength  of  twenty  men,"  he  added,  as  the  murderer  writhed 
and  struggled,  "  you  could  not  escape  me,  or  loosen  my  grasp 
to-night !  " 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  493 


CHAPTER   LVII. 

Barnaby,  armed  as  we  have  seen,  continued  to  pace  up  and 
down  before  the  stable-door ;  glad  to  be  alone  again,  and 
heartily  rejoicing  in  the  unaccustomed  silence  and  tranquillity. 
After  the  whirl  of  noise  and  riot  in  which  the  last  two  days 
had  been  passed,  the  pleasures  of  solitude  and  peace  were 
enhanced  a  thousand-fold.  He  felt  quite  happy  ;  and  as  he 
leaned  upon  his  staff  and  mused,  a  bright  smile  overspread 
his  face,  and  none  but  cheerful  visions  floated  into  his  brain. 

Had  he  no  thoughts  of  her,  whose  sole  delight  he  was,  and 
whom  he  had  unconsciously  plunged  in  such  bitter  sorrow,  and 
such  deep  affliction  ?  Oh  yes.  She  was  at  the  heart  of  all  his 
cheerful  hopes  and  proud  reflections.  It  was  she  whom  all 
this  honor  and  distinction  were  to  gladden  ;  the  joy  and 
profit  were  for  her.  What  delight  it'  gave  her  to  hear  of  the 
bravery  of  her  poor  boy  !  Ah  !  He  would  have  known  that, 
without  Hugh's  telling  him.  And  what  a  precious  thing  it 
was  to  know  she  lived  so  happily,  and  heard  with  so  much 
pride  (he  pictured  to  himself  her  look  when  they  told  her)  that 
he  was  in  such  high  esteem :  bold  among  the  boldest,  and 
trusted  before  them  all.  And  when  these  frays  were  over, 
and  the  good  lord  had  conquered  his  enemies,  and  they  were 
all  at  peace  again,  and  he  and  she  were  rich,  what  happiness 
they  would  have  in  talking  of  these  troubled  times  when  he 
was  a  great  soldier  :  and  when  they  sat  alone  togetlier  in  the 
tranquil  twilight,  and  she  had  no  longer  reason  to  be  anxious 
for  the  morrow,  wliat  pleasure  woukl  ne  have  in  the  reflection 
that  this  was  his  doing  —  his  —  poor  foolish  Karnaby's  ;  and 
in  patting  her  on  the  cheek,  and  saying  with  a  merry  laugh, 
"  Am  I  silly  now,  mother  —  am  I  silly  now  ?  " 

With  a. lighter  heart  and  step,  and  eyes  the  brighter  for 
the  happy  tear  that  dimmed  them   for  a  moment,  r>arnaby 


494  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

resumed  his  walk ;  and  singing  gayly  to  himself,  kept  guard 
upon  his  quiet  post. 

His  comrade  Grip,  the  partner  of  his  watch,  though  fond  of 
basking  in  the  snnshine,  preferred  to-day  to  walk  about  the 
stable ;  having  a  great  deal  to  do  in  the  way  of  scattering  the 
straw,  hiding  under  it  such  small  articles  as  had  been  casually 
left  about,  and  haunting  Hugh's  bed,  to  which  he  seemed  to 
have  taken  a  particular  attachment.  Sometimes  Barnaby 
looked  in  and  called  him,  and  then  he  came  hopping  out ;  but 
he  merely  did  this  as  a  concession  to  his  master's  weakness, 
and  soon  returned  again  to  his  own  grave  pursuits :  peering 
into  the  straw  Avith  his  bill,  and  rapidly  covering  up  the  place, 
as  if,  Midas-like,  he  were  whispering  secrets  to  the  earth  and 
burying  them  ;  constantly  busying  himself  upon  the  sly ;  and 
affecting,  whenever  Barnaby  came  past,  to  look  up  in  the 
clouds  and  have  nothing  whatever  on  his  mind :  in  short,  con- 
ducting himself,  in  many  respects,  in  a  more  than  usually 
thoughtful,  deep,  and  mysterious  manner. 

As  the  day  crept  on,  Barnaby,  who  had  no  directions  for- 
bidding him  to  eat  and  drink  upon  his  post,  but  had  been,  on 
the  contrary,  supplied  with  a  bottle  of  beer  and  a  basket  of 
provisions,  determined  to  break  his  fast,  which  he  had  not 
done  since  morning.  To  this  end,  he  sat  down  on  the  ground 
before  the  door,  and  putting  his  staff  across  his  knees  in  case 
of  alarm  or  surprise,  summoned  Grip  to  dinner. 

This  call,  the  bird  obeyed  with  great  alacrity  ^  crying,  as 
he  sidled  up  to  his  master,  "I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  Polly,  I'm  a 
kettle,  I'm  a  Protestant,  Xo  Popery  ! "  Having  learned  this 
latter  sentiment  from  the  gentry  among  whom  he  had  lived 
of  late,  he  delivered  it  with  uncommon  emphasis. 

"Well  said.  Grip!"  cried  his  master,  as  he  fed  him  with 
the  daintiest  bits.     "  Well  said,  old  boy  ! " 

"Xever  say  die,  bow  wow  wow,  keep  up  your  spirits.  Grip 
Grip  Grip,  Holloa!  We'll  all  have  tea,  I'm  a  Protestant 
kettle,  No  Popery  ! "  cried  the  raven. 

"  Gordon  forever,  Grip  !  "  cried  Barnaby. 

The  raven,  placing  his  head  upon  the  ground,  looked  at  his 
master  sideways,  as  though  he  would  have  said,  "Say  that 
again  ! "   Perfectly  understanding  his  desire,  Barnaby  repeated 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  495 

the  phrase  a  great  many  times.  The  bird  listened  with  pro- 
found attention  ;  sometimes  repeating  the  popular  cry  in  a 
low  voice,  as  if  to  compare  the  two,  and  try  if  it  would  at  all 
help  him  to  this  new  accomplishment ;  sometimes  flapping  his 
wings,  or  barking;  and  sometimes  in  a  kind  of  desperation 
drawing  a  multitude  of  corks,  with  extraordinary  viciousness. 

Barnaby  was  so  intent  upon  his  favorite,  that  he  was  not 
at  flrst  aware  of  the  approach  of  two  persons  on  horseback, 
who  were  riding  at  a  footpace,  and  coming  straight  towards 
his  post.  When  he  perceived  them,  however,  which  he  did 
when  they  were  within  some  fifty  yards  of  him,  he  jumped 
hastily  up,  and  ordering  Grip  within  doors,  stood  with  both 
hands  on  his  staff,  waiting  until  he  should  know  whether  they 
were  friends  or  foes. 

He  had  hardly  done  so,  when  he  observed  that  those  who 
advanced  were  a  gentleman  and  his  servant;  almost  at  the 
same  moment  he  recognized  Lord  George  Gordon,  before 
whom  he  stood  uncovered,  with  his  eyes  turned  towards  the 
ground. 

"Good  day!"  said  Lord  George,  not  reining  in  his  horse 
until  he  was  close  beside  him.     "Well!" 

"  All  quiet,  sir,  all  safe  ! "  cried  Barnaby.  "  The  rest  are 
away  —  they  went  by  that  path  —  that  one.     A  grand  party  ! " 

"  Ay  ? "  said  Lord  George,  looking  thoughtfully  at  him. 
"  And  you  ?  " 

"Oh!  They  left  me  here  to  watch  —  to  mount  guard  —  to 
keep  everything  secure  till  they  come  back.  I'll  do  it,  sir, 
for  your  sake.  You're  a  good  gentleman ;  a  kind  gentleman 
—  ay,  you  are.  There  are  many  against  you,  but  we'll  be  a 
match  for  them,  never  fear !  " 

"  What's  that  ?  "  said  Lord  George  —  pointing  to  the  raven 
who  was  peeping  out  of  the  stable-door  —  but  still  looking 
thoughtfully,  and  in  some  perplexity,  it  seemed,  at  Barnaby. 

"Why,  don't  you  know  !  "  retorted  Barnaby,  with  a  wonder- 
ing laugh.  "Not  know  what  he  is!  A  bird,  to  be  sure.  My 
bird  —  my  friend  —  Grip." 

"A  devil,  a  kettle,  a  Grip,  a  Tolly,  a  Protestant,  no 
Popery  !  "  cried  the  raven. 

"Though,  indeed,"  added   Barnaby,  laying   his   liand   upon 


49G  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

the  ueck  of  Lord  George's  horse,  and  speaking  softly :  "  you 
had  good  reason  to  ask  me  what  he  is,  for  sometimes  it  puzzles 

me and  I  am  used  to  him  —  to  think  he's  only  a  bird.     He's 

my  brother,  Grip  is  — always  with  me  —  always  talking  — 
always  merry  —  eh.  Grip  ?  " 

The  raven  answered  by  an  affectionate  croak,  and  hopping 
on  his  master's  arm,  which  he  held  downward  for  that  pur- 
pose, submitted  with  an  air  of  perfect  indifference  to  be 
fondled,  and  turned  his  restless,  curious  eye,  now  upon  Lord 
George  and  now  upon  his  man. 

Lord  George,  biting  his  nails  in  a  discomfited  manner, 
regarded  Barnaby  for  some  time  in  silence ;  then  beckoning 
to  his  servant,  said,  — 

"  Come  hither,  John." 

John  Grueby  touched  his  hat,  and  came. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  this  young  man  before  ?  "  his  master 
asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Twice,  my  lord,"  said  John.  "1  see  him  in  the  crowd 
last  night  and  Saturday." 

"  Did  —  did  it  seem  to  you  that  his  manner  was  at  all  wild 
or  strange  ?  "  Lord  George  demanded,  faltering. 

"Mad,"  said  John,  with  emphatic  brevity, 

"  And  why  do  you  think  him  mad,  sir  ?  "  said  his  master, 
speaking  in  a  peevish  tone.  "  Don't  use  that  word  too  freely. 
Why  do  you  think  him  mad  ?  " 

"My  lord,"  John  Grueby  answered,  "look  at  his  dress,  look 
at  his  eyes,  look  at  his  restless  way,  hear  him  cry,  'No 
Popery  ! '     Mad,  my  lord." 

"  So  because  one  man  dresses  unlike  another,"  returned  his 
angry  master,  glancing  at  himself,  "and  happens  to  differ 
from  other  men  in  his  carriage  and  manner,  and  to  advocate  a 
great  cause  which  the  corrupt  and  irreligious  desert,  he  is  to 
be  accounted  mad,  is  he  ?  " 

"Stark,  staring,  raving,  roaring  mad,  my  lord,"  returned 
the  unmoved  John. 

"  Do  you  say  this  to  my  face  ?  "  cried  his  master,  turning 
sharply  upon  him. 

"  To  any  man,  my  lord,  who  asks  me,"  answered  John. 

"Mr.  Gashford,  I  find,  was  right,"  said  Lord  George;  "I 


BABNABT  BUDGE.  497 

thought  him  prejudiced,  though  I  ought  to  have  known  a  man 
like  him  better  than  to  have  supposed  it  possible ! " 

"I  shall  never  have  Mr.  Gashford's  good  word,  my  lord," 
replied  John,  touching  his  hat  respectfully,  "and  I  don't 
covet  it." 

"You  are  an  ill-conditioned,  most  ungrateful  fellow,"  said 
Lord  George  :  "  a  spy,  for  anything  I  know.  Mr.  Gashford 
is  perfectly  correct,  as  I  might  liave  felt  convinced  he  was.  I 
have  done  wrong  to  retain  you  in  my  service.  It  is  a  tacit 
insult  to  him  as  my  choice  and  confidential  friend  to  do  so, 
remembering  the  cause  you  sided  with,  on  the  day  he  was 
maligned  at  Westminster.  You  will  leave  me  to-night  —  nay, 
as  soon  as  we  reach  home.     The  sooner  the  better." 

''If  it  comes  to  that,  I  say  so  too,  my  lord.  Let  Mr. 
Gashford  have  his  will.  As  to  my  being  a  spy,  my  lord,  you 
know  me  better  than  to  believe  it,  I  am  sure,  I  don't  know 
much  about  causes.  My  cause  is  the  cause  of  one  man  against 
two  hundred ;  and  I  hope  it  always  will  be." 

"You  have  said  quite  enough,"  returned  Lord  George, 
motioning  him  to  go  back.     "  I  desire  to  hear  no  more." 

"If  you'll  let  me  add  another  word,  my  lord,"  returned 
John  Grueby,  "  I'd  give  this  silly  fellow  a  caution  not  to  stay 
here  by  himself.  The  proclamation  is  in  a  good  many  hands 
already,  and  it's  well  known  that  he  was  concerned  in  the 
business  it  relates  to.  He  had  better  get  to  a  place  of  safety 
if  he  can,  poor  creature." 

"  You  hear  what  this  man  says  ? "  cried  Lord  George, 
addressing  Barnaby,  who  had  looked  on  and  wondered  while 
this  dialogue  passed.  "He  thinks  you  may  be  afraid  to 
remain  upon  your  post,  and  are  kept  here  perhaps  against 
your  will.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"I  think,  young  man,"  said  John,  in  explanation,  "that 
tlie  soldiers  may  turn  out  and  take  you ;  and  that  if  they  do, 
you  will  certainly  be  hung  by  the  neck  till  you're  dead  —  dead 
—  dead.  And  I  think  you'd  better  go  from  here,  as  fast  as 
you  can.     That's  what  /  think." 

"He's  a  coward.  Grip,  a  coward!"  cried  IJarnaby,  putting 
the  raven  on  the  ground,  and  sliouldering  his  staff.  "Let 
them  come  !     Gordon  forever  !     Let  them  come  ! " 

VOJv.  I. 


498  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

''  Ay  I ''  said  Lord  George,  "  let  them  I  Let  us  see  who  will 
venture  to  attack  a  power  like  ours ;  the  solemn  league  of 
a  whole  people.  This  a  madman  !  You  have  said  well,  very 
well.     I  am  proud  to  be  the  leader  of  such  men  as  j^ou." 

Barnaby's  heart  swelled  within  his  bosom  as  he  heard  these 
words.  He  took  Lord  George's  hand  and  carried  it  to  his 
lips ;  patted  his  horse's  crest,  as  if  the  affection  and  admira- 
tion he  had  conceived  for  the  man  extended  to  the  animal  he 
rode ;  then  unfurled  his  flag,  and  proudly  waving  it,  resumed 
his  pacing  up  and  down. 

Lord  George,  with  a  kindling  eye  and  glowing  cheek,  took 
off  his  hat,  and  flourishing  it  above  his  head,  bade  him 
exultingly  Farewell !  —  then  cantered  off  at  a  brisk  pace  ;  after 
glancing  angrily  round  to  see  that  his  servant  followed. 
Honest  John  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  after  his  master, 
but  not  before  he  had  again  warned  Barnaby  to  retreat,  with 
many  significant  gestures,  which  indeed  he  continued  to 
make,  and  Barnaby  to  resist,  until  the  windings  of  the  road 
concealed  them  from  each  other's  view. 

Left  to  himself  again  with  a  still  higher  sense  of  the 
importance  of  his  post,  and  stimulated  to  enthusiasm  by  the 
special  notice  and  encouragement  of  his  leader,  Barnaby 
walked  to  and  fro  in  a  delicious  trance  rather  than  as  a 
waking  man.  The  sunshine  which  prevailed  around  was  in 
his  mind.  He  had  but  one  desire  ungratified.  If  she  could 
only  see  him  now. 

The  day  wore  on  ;  its  heat  was  gently  giving  place  to  the 
cool  of  evening ;  a  light  wind  sprung  up,  fanning  his  long 
hair,  and  making  the  banner  rustle  pleasantly  above  his  head. 
There  was  a  freedom  and  freshness  in  the  sound  and  in  the 
time,  which  chimed  exactly  with  his  mood.  He  was  happier 
than  ever. 

He  was  leaning  on  his  staff  looking  towards  the  declining 
sun,  and  reflecting  with  a  smile  that  he  stood  sentinel  at  that 
moment  over  buried  gold,  when  two  or  three  figures  appeared 
in  the  distance,  making  towards  the  house  at  a  rapid  pace,  and 
motioning  with  their  hands  as  though  they  urged  its  inmates 
to  retreat  from  some  approaching  dainger.  As  they  drew 
nearer,  they  became  more  earnest  in  their  gestures ;  and  they 


BABNABY   BUDGE.  499 

were  no  sooner  within  hearing,  than  the  foremost  among  them 
cried  that  the  soldiers  were  coming  up. 

At  these  words  Barnaby  furled  his  flag,  and  tied  it  round 
the  pole.  His  heart  beat  high  while  he  did  so,  but  he  had  no 
more  fear  or  thought  of  retreating  than  the  pole  itself.  The 
friendly  stragglers  hurried  past  him,  after  giving  him  notice 
of  his  danger,  and  quickly  passed  into  the  house,  where  the 
utmost  confusion  immediately  prevailed.  As  those  within 
hastily  closed  the  windows  and  the  doors,  they  urged  him  by 
looks  and  signs  to  fly  without  loss  of  time,  and  called  to  him 
many  times  to  do  so  ;  but  he  only  shook  his  head  indignantly 
in  answer,  and  stood  the  firmer  on  his  post.  Finding  that  he 
was  not  to  be  persuaded,  they  took  care  of  themselves  ;  and 
leaving  the  place  with  only  one  old  woman  in  it,  speedily 
withdrew. 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  symptom  of  the  news  having  any 
better  foundation  than  in  the  fears  of  those  who  brought  it, 
but  The  Boot  had  not  been  deserted  five  minutes,  when  there 
appeared  coming  across  the  fields,  a  body  of  men  who,  it  was 
easy  to  see,  by  the  glitter  of  their  arms  and  ornaments  in  the 
sun,  and  by  their  orderly  and  regular  mode  of  advancing  —  for 
they  came  on  as  one  man  —  were  soldiers.  In  a  very  little 
time,  Barnaby  knew  that  they  were  a  strong  detachment  of 
the  Foot  Guards,  having  along  with  them  two  gentlemen  in 
private  clothes,  and  a  small  party  of  Horse  ;  the  latter  brought 
up  the  rear,  and  were  not  in  number  more  than  six  or  eight. 

They  advanced  steadily  ;  neither  quickening  their  pace  as 
they  came  nearer,  nor  raising  any  cry,  nor  showing  the  least 
emotion  or  anxiety.  Though  this  was  a  matter  of  course  in 
the  case  of  regular  troops,  even  to  Barnaby  there  was  some- 
thing particularly  impressive  and  disconcerting  in  it  to  one 
accustomed  to  the  noise  and  tumult  of  an  undisciplined  mob. 
For  all  that,  he  stood  his  ground  not  a  whit  the  less  resolutely, 
and  looked  on  undismayed. 

Presently,  they  marched  into  the  yard,  and  halted.  The 
commanding  oflicer  despatched  a  messenger  to  the  horsemen, 
one  of  whom  came  riding  back.  Some  words  passed  between 
them,  and  they  glanced  at  Barnaby  ;  who  well  remembered 
the  man  he  had  unliorsed  at  Westminster,  and  saw  him  now 


500  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

before  his  eyes.  The  man  being  speedily  dismissed,  saluted, 
and  rode  back  to  his  comrades,  who  were  drawn  up  apart  at  a 
short  distance. 

The  officer  then  gave  the  word  to  prime  and  load.  The 
heavy  ringing  of  the  musket-stocks  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
sharp  and  rapid  rattling  of  the  ramrods  in  their  barrels,  were  a 
kind  of  relief  to  Barnaby,  deadly  though  he  knew  the  purport 
of  such  sounds  to  be.  When  this  was  done,  other  commands 
were  given,  and  the  soldiers  instantaneously  formed  in  single 
file  all  round  the  house  and  stables  ;  completely  encircling 
them  in  every  part,  at  a  distance,  perhaps,  of  some  half-dozen 
yards  ;  at  least  that  seemed  in  Barnaby's  eyes  to  be  about 
the  space  left  between  himself  and  those  who  confronted 
him.  The  horsemen  remained  drawn  up  by  themselves  as 
before. 

The  two  gentlemen  in  private  clothes  who  had  kept  aloof, 
now  rode  forward,  one  on  either  side  the  officer.  The  procla- 
mation having  been  produced  and  read  by  one  of  them,  the 
officer  called  on  Barnaby  to  surrender. 

He  made  no  answer,  but  stepping  within  the  door,  before 
which  he  had  kept  guard,  held  his  pole  crosswise  to  protect  it. 
In  the  midst  of  a  profound  silence,. he  was  again  called  upon 
to  yield. 

Still  he  offered  no  reply.  Indeed  he  had  enough  to  do,  to 
run  his  eye  backward  and  forward  along  the  half-dozen  men 
who  immediately  fronted  him,  and  settle  hurriedly  within 
himself  at  which  of  them  he  would  strike  first,  when  they 
pressed  on  him.  He  caught  the  eye  of  one  in  the  centre,  and 
resolved  to  hew  that  fellow  down,  though  he  died  for  it. 

Again  there  was  a  dead  silence,  and  again  the  same  voice 
called  upon  him  to  deliver  himself  up. 

Next  moment  he  was  back  in  the  stable,  dealing  blows 
about  him  like  a  madman.  Two  of  the  men  lay  stretched  at 
his  feet :  the  one  he  had  marked,  dropped  first  —  he  had  a 
thought  for  that,  even  in  the  hot  blood  and  hurry  of  the  strug- 
gle. Another  blow  —  another.  Down,  mastered,  wounded  in 
the  breast  b}^  a  heavy  blow  from  the  but-end  of  a  gun  (he 
saw  the  weapon  in  the  act  of  falling)  —  breathless  —  and  a 
prisoner. 


-|^^#:  f 


BABNABY  BUDGE.  501 

An  exclamation  of  surprise  from  the  officer  recalled  him,  in 
some  degree,  to  himself.  He  looked  round,  Grip,  after  work- 
ing in  secret  all  the  afternoon,  and  with  redoubled  vigor  while 
everybody's  attention  was  distracted,  had  plucked  away  the 
straw  from  Hugh's  bed,  and  turned  up  the  loose  ground  with 
his  iron  bill.  The  hole  had  been  recklessly  filled  to  the  brim, 
and  was  merely  sprinkled  with  earth.  Golden  cups,  spoons, 
candlesticks  coined  guineas  —  all  the  riches  were  revealed. 

They  brought  spades  and  a  sack  ;  dug  up  everything  that 
was  hidden  there  ;  and  carried  away  more  than  two  men  could 
lift.  They  handcuffed  him  and  bound  his  arms,  searched  him, 
and  took  away  all  he  had.  Xobody  questioned  or  reproached 
him,  or  seemed  to  have  much  curiosity  about  him.  The  two 
men  he  had  stunned  were  carried  off  by  their  companions 
in  the  same  business-like  way  in  which  everything  else  was 
done.  Finally,  he  was  left  under  a  guard  of  four  soldiers 
with  lixed  bayonets,  while  the  officer  directed  in  person 
the' search  of  the  house  and  the  other  buildings  connected 
with  it. 

This  was  soon  completed.  The  soldiers  formed  again  in  the 
yard  ;  he  was  marched  out  with  his  guard  about  him  ;  and 
ordered  to  fall  in  where  a  space  was  left.  The  others  closed 
up  all  round,  and  so  they  moved  away,  with  the  prisoner  in 
the  centre. 

When  they  came  into  the  streets,  he  felt  he  was  a  sight ; 
and  looking  up  as  they  passed  quickly  along,  could  see  people 
running  to  the  windows  a  little  too  late,  and  throwing  up  the 
sashes  to  look  after  him.  Sometimes  he  met  a  staring  face 
beyond  the  heads  above  him,  or  under  the  arms  of  his  con- 
ductors, or  peering  down  upon  him  from  a  wagon  top  or  coach 
box;  but  this  Avas  all  he  saw,  being  surrounded  by  so  many 
men.  The  very  noises  of  the  streets  seemed  muffled  and  sub- 
dued ;  and  the  air  came  stale  and  hot  upon  him,  like  the  sickly 
breath  of  an  oven. 

Tramp,  tramp.  Tramp,  tramp.  Heads  erect,  shoulders 
square,  every  man  stepping  in  exact  time  —  all  so  orderly  and 
regular  —  nobody  looking  at  liim  —  nobody  seeming  conscious 
of  his  presence,  —  he  could  hardly  believe  he  was  a  Prisoner. 
But  at  the  word,  though  only  tliought,  not  spoken,  he  felt  the 


502  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

handcuffs  galling  his  wrists,  the  cord  pressing  his  arms  to  his 
sides  :  the  loaded  guns  levelled  at  his  head  ;  and  those  cold, 
bright,  sharp,  shining  points  turned  towards  him  :  the  mere 
looking  down  at  which,  now  that  he  was  bound  and  helpless, 
made  the  warm  current  of  his  life  run  cold. 


BAIiNABY  BUDGE.  503 


CHAPTER   LVIII. 

They  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  barracks,  for  the  officer 
who  commanded  the  party  was  desirous  to  avoid  rousing  the 
people  by  the  display  of  military  force  in  the  streets,  and  was 
humanely  anxious  to  give  as  little  opportunity  as  possible  for 
any  attempt  at  rescue  ;  knowing  that  it  must  lead  to  blood- 
shed and  loss  of  life,  and  that  if  the  civil  authorities  by  whom 
he  was  accompanied,  empowered  him  to  order  his  men  to  fire, 
many  innocent  persons  would  probably  fall,  whom  curiosity 
or  idleness  had  attracted  to  the  spot.  He  therefore  led  the 
party  briskly  on,  avoiding  with  a  merciful  prudence  the  more 
public  and  crowded  thoroughfares,  and  pursuing  those  which 
he  deemed  least  likely  to  be  infested  by  disorderly  persons. 
This  wise  proceeding  not  only  enabled  them  to  gain  their 
quarters  without  any  interruption,  but  completely  baffled  a 
body  of  rioters  who  had  assembled  in  one  of  the  main  streets, 
through  which  it  was  considered  certain  they  would  pass,  and 
who  remained  gathered  together  for  the  purpose  of  releasing 
the  prisoner  from  their  hands,  long  after  they  had  deposited 
him  in  a  place  of  security,  closed  the  barrack  gates,  and  set  a 
double  guard  at  every  entrance  for  its  better  protection. 

Arrived  at  this  place,  poor  Barnaby  was  marched  into  a 
stone-floored  room,  where  there  was  a  very  powerful  smell  of 
tobacco,  a  strong  thorough  draught  of  air,  and  a  great  wooden 
bedstead,  large  enough  for  a  score  of  men.  Several  soldiers 
in  undress  were  lounging  about,  or  eating  from  tin  cans ; 
military  accoutrements  dangled  on  rows  of  pegs  .along  the 
whitewashed  wall ;  and  some  half-dozen  men  lay  fast  asleep 
upon  their  backs,  snoring  in  concert.  After  remaining  here 
just  long  enough  to  note  these  things,  he  was  marched  out 
again,  and  conveyed  across  the  parade-ground  to  another  ])C)r- 
tion  of  the  building. 


504  BAIiNABY  BUDGE. 

Perhaps  a  man  never  sees  so  much  at  a  ghmce  as  when  he 
is  in  a  situation  of  extremity.  The  chances  are  a  hundred  to 
one,  that  if  Barnaby  had  lounged  in  at  the  gate  to  look  about 
him,  he  would  have  lounged  out  again  with  a  very  imperfect 
idea  of  the  place,  and  would  have  remembered  very  little 
about  it.  But  as  he  was  taken  handcuffed  across  the  gravelled 
area,  nothing  escaped  his  notice.  The  dry,  arid  look  of  the 
dusty  square,  and  of  the  bare  brick  building  ;  the  clothes 
hanging  at  some  of  the  windows  ;  and  the  men  in  their  shirt- 
sleeves and  braces,  lolling  with  half  their  bodies  out  of  the 
others ;  the  green  sun-blinds  at  the  officers'  quarters,  and  the 
little  scanty  trees  in  front ;  the  drummer-boys  practising  in  a 
distant  courtyard ;  the  men  on  drill  on  the  parade  ;  the  two 
soldiers  carrying  a  basket  between  them,  who  winked  to  each 
other  as  he  went  by,  and  slyly  pointed  to  their  throats ;  the 
spruce  Sergeant  who  hurried  past  with  a  cane  in  his  hand, 
and  under  his  arm  a  clasped  book  with  a  vellum  cover ;  the 
fellows  in  the  ground-floor  rooms,  furbushing  and  brushing  up 
their  different  articles  of  dress,  who  stopped  to  look  at  him, 
and  whose  voices  as  they  spoke  together  echoed  loudly 
through  the  empty  galleries  and  passages  ;  —  everything,  down 
to  the  stand  of  muskets  before  the  guard-house,  and  the  drum 
with  a  pipe-clayed  belt  attached,  in  one  corner,  impressed 
itself  upon  his  observation,  as  though  he  had  noticed  them  in 
the  same  place  a  hundred  times,  or  had  been  a  whole  day 
among  them,  in  place  of  one  brief  hurried  minute. 

He  was  taken  into  a  small  paved  back  yard,  and  there  they 
opened  a  great  door,  plated  with  iron,  and  pierced  some  five 
feet  above  the  ground  with  a  few  holes  to  let  in  air  and  light. 
Into  this  dungeon  he  was  walked  straightway  ;  and  having 
locked  him  up  there,  and  placed  a  sentry  over  him,  they  left 
him  to  his  meditations. 

The  cell,  or  black  hole,  for  it  had  those  words  painted  on 
the  door,  was  very  dark,  and  having  recently  accommodated  a 
drunken  deserter,  by  no  means  clean.  Barnaby  felt  his  way 
to  some  straw  at  the  farther  end,  and  looking  towards  the 
door,  tried  to  accustom  himself  to  the  gloom,  which,  com- 
ing from  the  bright  sunshine  out  of  doors,  was  not  an  easy 
task. 


BAHNABT  BUDGE.  505 

There  was  a  kind  of  portico  or  colonnade  outside,  and  this 
obstructed  even  the  little  light  that  at  the  best  could  have 
found  its  way  through  the  small  apertures  in  the  door.  The 
footsteps  of  the  sentinel  echoed  monotonously  as  he  paced  its 
stone  pavement  to  and  fro  (reminding  Barnaby  of  the  watch 
he  had  so  lately  kept  himself)  ;  and  as  he  passed  and  repassed 
the  door,  he  made  the  cell  for  an  instant  so  black  by  the  inter- 
position of  his  body,  that  his  going  away  again  seemed  like 
the  appearance  of  a  new  ray  of  light,  and  was  quite  a  circum- 
stance to  look  for. 

When  the  prisoner  had  sat  some  time  upon  the  ground, 
gazing  at  the  chinks,  and  listening  to  the  advancing  and 
receding  footsteps  of  his  guard,  the  man  stood  still  upon  his 
post.  Barnaby,  quite  unable  to  think,  or  to  speculate  on  what 
would  be  done  with  him,  had  been  lulled  into  a  kind  of 
doze  by  his  regular  pace ;  but  his  stopping  roused  him  ;  and 
then  he  became  aware  that  two  men  were  in  conversation 
under  the  colonnade,  and  very  near  the  door  of  his  cell. 

How  long  they  had  been  talking  there,  he  could  not  tell, 
for  he  had  fallen  into  an  unconsciousness  of  his  real  position, 
and  when  the  footsteps  ceased,  was  answering  aloud  some 
question  which  seemed  to  have  been  put  to  him  by  Hugh  in 
the  stable,  though  of  the  fancied  purport,  either  of  question 
or  reply,  notwithstanding  that  he  awoke  with  the  latter  on 
his  lips  he  had  no  recollection  whatever.  The  first  words  that 
reached  his  ears,  were  these,  — 

"  Why  is  he  brought  here  then,  if  he  has  to  be  taken  away 
again,  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Why  where  would  3-ou  have  him  go  !  Damme,  he's  not  as 
safe  anywhere  as  among  the  king's  troops,  is  he  ?  What 
tvould  you  do  with  him  ?  Would  you  hand  him  over  to  a 
pack  of  cowardly  civilians,  that  shake  in  their  shoes  till  they 
wear  the  soles  out,  with  trembling  at  the  threats  of  the  raga- 
muffins he  belongs  to  ?  " 

"  That's  true  enough." 

"True  enough! — I'll  tell  you  what.  I  wish,  Tom  Green, 
that  I  was  a  commissioned  instead  of  a  non-commissioned 
officer,  and  that  I  had  the  command  of  two  companies  —  only 
two  companies  —  of  my  own  regiment.     Call  me  out  to  stop 


506  BARN  A  BY  RUDGE. 

these  riots  —  give  me  the  needful  authority,  and  half  a  dozen 
rounds  of  ball  cartridge  "  — 

"Ay!"  said  the  other  voice,  "That's  all  very  well,  but 
they  won't  give  the  needful  authority.  If  the  magistrate 
won't  give  the  word,  what's  the  officer  to  do  ?  " 

oSTot  very  well  knowing,  as  it  seemed,  how  to  overcome  this 
difficulty,  the  other  man  contented  himself  with  damning  the 
magistrates. 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  his  friend. 

"Where's  the  use  of  a  magistrate?"  returned  the  other 
voice.  "What's  a  magistrate  in  this  case,  but  an  impertinent, 
unnecessary,  unconstitutional  sort  of  interference  ?  Here's  a 
proclamation.  Here's  a  man  referred  to  in  that  proclama- 
tion. Here's  proof  against  him,  and  a  witness  on  the  spot. 
Damme  !  Take  him  out  and  shoot  him,  sir.  Who  wants  a 
magistrate  ?  " 

"  When  does  he  go  before  Sir  John  Fielding  ?  "  asked  the 
man  who  had  spoken  first. 

"'  To-night  at  eight  o'clock,"  returned  the  other.  "  Mark 
what  follows.  The  magistrate  commits  him  to  Kewgate. 
Our  people  take  him  to  Newgate.  The  rioters  pelt  our  peo- 
ple. Our  people  retire  before  the  rioters.  Stones  are  thrown, 
insults  are  offered,  not  a  shot's  fired.  Why  ?  Because  of  the 
magistrates.     Damn  the  magistrates  !  " 

When  he  had  in  some  degree  relieved  his  mind  by  cursing 
the  magistrates  in  various  other  forms  of  speech,  the  man  was 
silent,  save  for  a  low  growling,  still  having  reference  to  those 
authorities,  which  from  time  to  time  escaped  him. 

Barnaby,  Avho  had  wit  enough  to  know  that  this  conversa- 
tion concerned,  and  very  nearly  concerned,  himself,  remained 
perfectly  quiet  until  they  ceased  to  speak,  when  he  groped 
his  way  to  the  door,  and  peeping  through  the  air-holes,  tried 
to  make  out  what  kind  of  men  they  were,  to  whom  he  had 
been  listening. 

The  one  who  condemned  the  civil  power  in  such  strong 
terms,  was  a  sergeant  —  engaged  just  then,  as  the  streaming 
ribbons  in  his  cap  announced,  on  the  recruiting  service.  He 
stood  leaning  sideways  against  a  pillar  nearly  opposite  the 
door,   and   as   he   growled  to   himself,   drew  figures  on  the 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  507 

pavement  with  his  caiie.  The  other  man  had  his  back 
towards  the  dungeon,  and  Barnaby  could  only  see  his  form. 
To  judge  from  that  he  was  a  gallant,  manly,  handsome 
fellow,  but  he  had  lost  his  left  arm.  It  had  been  taken  oft' 
between  the  elbow  and  the  shoulder,  and  his  empty  coat 
sleeve  hung  across  his  breast. 

It  was  probably  this  circumstance  which  gave  him  an 
interest  beyond  any  that  his  companion  could  boast  of,  and 
attracted  Barnaby's  attention.  There  was  something  soldierly 
in  his  bearing,  and  he  wore  a  jaunty  cap  and  jacket.  Perhaps 
he  had  been  in  the  service  at  one  time  or  other.  If  he  had, 
it  could  not  have  been  very  long  ago,  for  he  was  but  a  young 
fellow  now. 

"Well,  well,"  he  said  thoughtfully;  "let  the  fault  be 
where  it  may,  it  makes  a  man  sorrowful  to  come  back  to  old 
England,  and  see  her  in  this  condition." 

"  I  suppose  the  pigs  will  join  'em  next,"  said  the  sergeant, 
with  an  imprecation  on  the  rioters,  "now  that  the  birds  have 
set  'em  the  example." 

"  The  birds  !  "  repeated  Tom  Green. 

"Ah  —  birds,"  said  the  sergeant  testily;  "that's  English, 
ain't  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  Go  to  the  guard-house,  and  see.  You'll  find  a  bird  there, 
that's  got  their  cry  as  pat  as  any  of  'em,  and  bawls  'No 
Popery,'  like  a  man  —  or  like  a  devil,  as  he  says  he  is.  I 
shouldn't  wonder.  The  devil's  loose  in  London  somewhere. 
Damme  if  I  wouldn't  twist  his  neck  round,  on  the  chance,  if 
I  had  vi7/  way." 

The  young  man  had  taken  two  or  three  steps  away,  as  if  to 
go  and  see  this  creature,  when  he  was  arrested  by  the  voice 
of  Barnaby. 

"  It's  mine,"  he  called  out,  half  laughing  and  half  weeping 
—  "my  pet,  my  friend  Grip.  Ha  ha  ha!  Don't  hurt  him,  he 
has  done  no  harm.  I  taught  him;  it's  my  fault.  Let  me 
have  him,  if  you  please.  He's  the  only  friend  I  have  left 
now.  He'll  not  dance,  or  talk,  or  whistle  for  you,  I  know  ; 
but  he  will  for  me,  because  he  knows  me,  and  loves  me  — 
though   you   wouldn't   think    it  —  very  well.      You  wouldn't 


508  BARXABY  BUDGE. 

hurt  a  bird,  I'm  sure.  You're  a  brave  soldier,  sir,  and 
wouldn't  harm  a  woman  or  a  child  —  no,  no,  nor  a  poor  bird, 
I'm  certain." 

This  latter  adjuration  was  addressed  to  the  sergeant,  whom 
Barnaby  judged  from  his  red  coat  to  be  high  in  office,  and 
able  to  seal  Grip's  destiny  by  a  word.  But  that  gentleman, 
in  reply,  surlily  damned  him  for  a  thief  and  rebel  as  he  was, 
and  with  many  disinterested  imprecations  on  his  own  eyes, 
liver,  blood,  and  body,  assured  him  that  if  it  rested  with  him 
to  decide,  he  would  put  a  final  stopper  on  the  bird,  and  his 
master  too. 

''  You  talk  boldly  to  a  caged  man,"  said  Barnaby,  in  anger. 
"If  I  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  door  and  there  w^ere  none 
to  part  us,  you'd  change  your  note  —  ay,  you  may  toss  your 
head  —  you  would!  Kill  the  bird  —  do.  Kill  anything  you 
can,  and  so  revenge  yourself  on  those  who  with  their  bare 
hands  untied  could  do  as  much  to  you ! " 

Having  vented  his  defiance,  he  flung  himself  into  the  fur- 
thest corner  of  his  prison,  and  muttering,  "  Good-by,  Grip  — 
good-by,  dear  old  Grip  ! "  shed  tears  for  the  first  time  since 
he  had  been  taken  captive ;  and  hid  his  face  in  the  straw. 

He  had  had  some  fancy  at  first,  that  the  one-armed  man 
would  help  him,  or  would  give  him  a  kind  word  in  answer. 
He  hardly  knew  why,  but  he  hoped  and  thought  so.  The 
young  fellow  had  stopped  when  he  called  out,  and  checking 
himself  in  the  very  act  of  turning  round,  stood  listening  to 
every  word  he  said.  Perhaps  he  built  his  feeble  trust  on 
this ;  perhaps  on  his  being  young,  and  having  a  frank  and 
honest  manner.  However  that  might  be,  he  built  on  sand. 
The  other  went  away  directly  he  had  finished  speaking, 
and  neither  answered  him,  nor  returned.  Xo  matter.  They 
were  all  against  him  here  ;  he  might  have  known  as  much. 
Good-by,  old  Grip,  good-by  ! 

After  some  time,  they  came  and  unlocked  tlie  door,  and 
called  to  him  to  come  out.  He  rose  directly,  and  complied, 
for  he  would  not  have  them  think  he  was  subdued  or  fright- 
ened. He  walked  out  like  a  man,  and  looked  from  face  to 
face. 

None  of  them  returned  his  gaze   or  seemed  to  notice  it. 


BARNABY    AND    GRIP    IN    PRISON. 


liATiXAIiY  nvi)(;K.  509 

They  marched  him  back  to  the  parade  by  the  way  they  had 
brought  him,  and  there  they  halted,  among  a  body  of  sokliers, 
at  least  twice  as  numerous  as  that  which  had  taken  him 
prisoner  in  the  afternoon.  The  officer  he  had  seen  before, 
bade  him  in  a  few  brief  words  take  notice  that  if  he  attempted 
to  escape,  no  matter  how  favorable  a  chance  he  might  suppose 
he  had,  certain  of  the  men  had  orders  to  fire  upon  him,  that 
moment.  They  then  closed  round  him  as  before,  and  marched 
him  off  again. 

In  the  same  unbroken  order  they  arrived  at  Kow  Street, 
followed  and  beset  on  all  sides  by  a  crowd  which  was  contin- 
ually increasing.  Here  he  was  placed  before  a  blind  gentle- 
man and  asked  if  he  wished  to  say  anything.  Not  he.  What 
had  he  got  to  tell  them  ?  After  a  very  little  talking,  which 
he  was  careless  of  and  quite  indifferent  to,  they  told  him  he 
was  to  go  to  Newgate,  and  took  him  away. 

He  went  out  into  the  street,  so  surrounded  and  hemmed  in 
on  every  side  by  soldiers,  that  he  could  see  nothing:  but  he 
knew  there  was  a  great  crowd  of  people,  by  the  murmur;  and 
that  they  were  not  friendly  to  the  soldiers,  was  soon  rendered 
evident  by  their  yells  and  hisses.  How  often  and  how  eagerly 
he  listened  for  the  voice  of  Hugh !  No.  There  was  not  a 
voice  he  knew  among  them  all.  Was  Hugh  a  prisoner  too  ? 
Was  there  no  hope  ! 

As  they  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  prison,  the  hootings 
of  the  people  grew  more  violent ;  stones  were  thrown  ;  and 
every  now  and  then,  a  rush  was  made  against  the  soldiers, 
winch  they  staggered  under.  One  of  them,  close  before  him, 
smarting  under  a  blow  upon  the  temple,  levelled  his  musket, 
but  the  officer  struck  it  upwards  with  his  sword,  and  ordered 
him  on  peril  of  his  life  to  desist.  This  was  the  last  thing  he 
saw  with  any  distinctness,  for  directly  afterwards  he  was 
tossed  about,  and  beaten  to  and  fro,  as  though  in  a  tem])est- 
uous  sea.  But  go  where  lie  would,  there  were  the  same  guards 
about  him.  Twice  or  tlirice  he  was  thrown  down,  and  so 
were  they ;  but  even  then,  lie  could  not  elude  their  vigilance 
for  a  moment.  They  were  up  again,  and  had  closed  al)()ut 
him,  before  he,  with  his  wrists  so  tightly  bound,  could  scram- 
ble to  his  feet.     Fenced   in   thus,  he   felt   himself  hoisted  to 


510  liABXABY  JiUDGE. 

the  top  of  a  low  flight  of  steps,  and  then  for  a  moment  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  fighting  in  the  crowd,  and  of  a  few 
red  coats  sprinkled  together,  here  and  there,  struggling  to 
rejoin  their  fellows.  Next  moment,  everything  was  dark 
and  gloomy,  and  he  was  standing  in  the  prison  lobby  ;  the 
centre  of  a  group  of  men. 

A  smith  was  speedily  in  attendance,  who  riveted  upon  him 
a  set  of  heavy  irons.  Stumbling  on  as  well  as  he  could, 
beneath  the  unusual  burden  of  these  fetters,  he  was  conducted 
to  a  strong  stone  cell,  where,  fastening  the  door  with  locks, 
and  bolts,  and  chains,  they  left  him,  well  secured;  having 
first,  unseen  by  him,  thrust  in  Grip,  who,  with  his  head 
drooping  and  his  deep  black  plumes  rough  and  rumpled, 
appeared  to  comprehend  and  to  partake,  his  master's  fallen 
fortunes. 


THE   END    OF    VOL.   L 


I 


//,^MCr"  I  iT^^Vd: 


